


The Safety-Deposit Box

by tinytofuturtle



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (does it still count as a road trip if the bad guys are coming after you?), (slowest of all burns), Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rape Aftermath, Road Trips, SHIELD, Slow Burn, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2021-04-21
Packaged: 2021-04-25 12:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 94,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinytofuturtle/pseuds/tinytofuturtle
Summary: A lot of things in Larissa’s life aren't what most people would consider ‘normal’. But finding out she was indirectly contributing to brainwashing a man in a huge safe in the basement? That's a whole new level of fucked up.After seeing S.H.I.E.L.D. for what they truly are, Larissa is forced to run for her life, leaving behind everything she knows. At least she’s not alone. A confused Bucky Barnes has made it his mission to get her to safety while he tries to put himself back together.________________________________The feeling was shocking after not knowing anything other than the icy cold and fear and numbness. It was like a warm shower after being locked out in the snow. It made his skin tingle, his limbs shake, and his stomach flip. And in the best way possible, it was like he was waking up from the cryostasis chamber all over again.Bucky finally understood what being awake could feel like.________________________________The Asgardian Post: "A beautiful tale of love and self-discovery. Though it takes place upon Midgard, isn’t love and self-discovery what all of us are searching for in this vast universe of ours-" okay, okay, I’ll stop. Marvel, please don't sue me.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/OFC, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), bucky barnes/original female character
Comments: 201
Kudos: 316





	1. Prologue

  
The moment he could feel his fingers begin to tingle and hear his own thoughts begin to surface from the frozen cold sleep he had been placed in, he knew he was being woken. With his body frozen through, he could only be still. There was nothing he could do to express the panic that boiled up in him. It came from somewhere deep inside, somewhere primal, from a place within him that wanted nothing but to fight his way out of wherever he was.

His body was restricted, not only because he was frozen to the bone. He could feel the pull of his bonds keeping him in place when he tried to tug his slowly thawing arm free.

He could hear voices from outside of the tube he had been kept in. For how long, he was unsure. 

It all felt like a dream. Like he was floating somewhere outside of space and time. All the while every inch of his skin burned as the cells came back to life.

If he could remember the past times he had experienced this, he would have known that waking up again was always like a painful dream.

Nothing excised outside of him and the cryostasis chamber and his thoughts were racing but empty of content.

He didn’t exist. He wasn’t a person. He was what they made him into.

He was their winter soldier.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a stormy afternoon in early January when the black van pulled to a squeaking halt along the sidewalk. It was the kind of afternoon where you knew you needed to get home as quick as you could. That is, if you wanted to avoid the snowstorm that would be arriving soon. The dark ominous clouds were already visible on the horizon.

The wind had started to pick up causing Larissa’s hair to whirl around her face in tendrils when she hopped out of the van and walked around to the trunk in search of her belongings.

Despite the chill in the air, small drops of sweat gathered in her hairline as she slid boxes around in the truck. Attempting to find her stuff in the array of labeled moving boxes wasn't an easy task.

After looking the best she could within her reach, she huffed and climbed into the back of the van. With a better overview, she was able to locate her small suitcase and backpack behind another box that her mother had filled to the brim with equipment.

Once her feet were planted back on the ground, she squinted up at the looming building before her. Using her one hand to shield her hair from her eyes, she took in the old bank building. Her fingernails of the other hand dug into her palm as she let out a deep sigh. She swung her backpack over her shoulder and grabbing the handle of her suitcase.

When they told her that she and her mother would be moving back to the inhabited world, she had been ecstatic. Finally, they would be moving into a normal house or apartment on some normal street in Washington D.C. Alteast, that is what she had thought.

Larissa had been wrong. This place was going to be home for the time being. The new revelation didn’t even surprise her because it was just the next in a line of obstacles SHIELD had thrown at her.

She felt her heart clench in her chest at the thought of how foolish she had been for getting her hopes up. SHIELD was a bit shady with everything they did. Moving one of their top scientists and her adult daughter into an old abandoned bank building was just one of those shady things. She figured they had accepted 'secrecy' into their motto by now. If she could get a dollar for every time she'd been told something was above her clearance she would be a rich woman.

She looked back at the driver who had started to unload the rest of the boxes from the trunk but he waved her onward declining her help.

She hurried up the steps. Her breath came in short pants when she finally made it to the glass door and pushed against the brass handle. Clumsily she held it as she tried to maneuver her suitcase in behind her.

Relieved to be out of the brooding storm, she pushed her windswept hair from her face. Her eyes were drawn back outside when another van pulled up, stopping right behind the first.

Alex was out of the van before it had even come to a complete halt. With a small smile on her lips, she watched as her friend looked up at the dome-shaped building with amazement.

  
And on that front, she couldn’t help but agree with him. The huge hall was impressive, to say the least. Despite the disappointment that clouded her, she couldn’t help but be curious about how the gigantic dome hallway looked when the sun was glittering through the glass ceiling, creating patterns across the marble floor.

The heavy door behind her opened once again and Alex parked his suitcase beside hers.

Seeing the two bags beside each other she couldn’t help but realize that they both looked perfectly new. Practically unused and yet to be damaged by the toll of air travel. It made her chest flutter thinking about how this was her first real adventure in this vast world she’d never had a chance to really be apart of.

A boyish grin danced on her friend’s lips when he caught her gaze.

“What?” she said, bumping his arm with her elbow.

“This is such an upgrade from that concrete piece of shit they had us all living in for so long. Oh my gosh.”

She laughed under her breath and rolled her eyes at him.

The sound of someone approaching caused the two to look up. A dark-haired male approached them, crossing the room with a stride so confidant Larissa immediately who he was and that he owned the place.

Larissa’s eyes flicked back over to Alex, who pressed his lips together into a line. Alex’s stance went a bit rigid when Brock's hand gripped his shoulder as a greeting.

“Long time no see, brother. I was wondering when SHIELD was finally going to put you to some good use.”

Larissa wasn’t fooled by the man’s welcoming façade. She saw the way her friend flinched at the contact as Brock’s fingers gripped Alex’s shoulder tighter than what was acceptable as a friendly greeting.

It wasn’t like she’d never seen Alex’s brother before, but she’d never actually met him. She’d only ever seen him in passing. Brock had come and gone to the compound regularly over the past few years. Yet, in all the time she’d known her best friend, she’d never seen him interact with his taller, more confident sibling.

In fact, Alex barely spoke of Brock at all. The few times he had, Larissa noticed it made him sad so she never pushed the subject.

  
Brock’s hoarse voice broke her out of her tired daze. "I assume you are Larissa, correct?"

“Uhm, yeah that’s me.”

  
He held out his hand for her to shake. “Agent Brock Rumlow. Pleased to meet you.”

  
Larissa tried not to grimace at his tight grip and made a mental note to google what a strong handshake said about a person when she got a chance.

“Let me help you with that,” he said, grabbing her suitcase from her, not waiting for her to answer. “I’ll show both of you to your rooms”

  
Larissa and Alex shared a look. Alex rolled his eyes telling her he was fed up already. She reached out and squeezed his hand before following Brock to the marble staircase that led to the upper floors of the building.

  
The sound of their footsteps was all that could be heard echoing in the empty space.

On any other day, Alex would have cracked a joke about the amazing acoustics before breaking out into song but when Larissa looked back at him, his face was serious and his eyes were solely trained on his brother. Today was definitely not that day.

“So,” Brock started, “I heard you’ll be joining the security team here.” He looked at her before turning down one of the halls at the top of the stairs. The corridor was dark, only the window with a view over a next-door building filtered grey light onto the hard office-like carpet.

“Yeah, I’m a bit nervous actually. This is the first time SHIELD has recruited me since I finished my training. I’m surprised they even asked me to do it.”

It wasn’t just small talk. Larissa has actually been very surprised when she had been asked for this position. Unlike Alex, and most other kids they’d grown up alongside of, she didn’t have much natural talent for fighting, shooting or any of the other physical requirements SHIELD wanted in their agents-in-training or security personnel. Her talents laid elsewhere. At least, that was what her mother was fond of telling her.

“I bet you’ll do just fine,” Brock said flashing her a smile as he opened the last of the many doors in the hallway. “We’ll this is your room. It’s not much but this whole thing is only supposed to be temporary.”

“Thanks.” She nodded at Brock as she took in the room.  
  


From the slatted blinds that covered the windows to the random electrical outlets that were at hip height on the walls, it was obvious that the room had functioned as an office once. The two fold-out beds were pushed into the two corners of the room. The one already had a backpack on it that Larissa recognized as her mother’s.

Brock parked her suitcase next to the empty bed and stood back. “The bathroom is across the hall. Is there anything else you need?”

Larissa tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t think so. Do you know by any chance where my mom is?”

“She’s in the basement setting up her stuff. If there is anything you need, there’ll be someone in the hall downstairs so just ask them.” He backed out of the room. “See you around.” He smirked as he left, pulling his brother along with him with a firm hand on his back. Alex tripped over his own feet as he was pulled along.  
  


They made an interesting pair. She hoped Alex was okay. She would have to sit down with him tomorrow. But for now, her mind was too tired and her bed looked like heaven. She knew she was going to be out the moment she placed her head on the pillow. She just hoped she could wash the grime of the day off her body in the shower before she passed out.

________________________________

When her eyes blinked open to the darkness of the room a few hours later, she lay confused for a moment before her body shot upright. Her gaze darted around the room, not recognizing where she was, before settling on her opened suitcase that lay on the ground beside the bed.

It came back to her then.

She had fished her pajamas out of there earlier. She was a long way from the place she had called home for years, but this place was to be her home for now.

Her tense muscles relaxed as she let her body rest back into her bed and she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

Her mother's bed looked different then it did when Larissa had gone to sleep. The bed was empty but he sheets were pulled back and left neatly draped over the bottom half of the bed in the way her mother always left it in the morning. Larissa didn’t remember hearing her go to bed.

Her eyes moved across the ceiling. The perfectly uniform squares ceiling tiles were illuminated in green by the emergency exit sign above the door to the hall.

She tried to close her eyes again, hoping sleep would come to her, but instead she felt that her mind was now wide-awake. Damn you, jetlag.

Knowing sleep wouldn't be coming to her any time soon, she got up and put on some comfortable clothes.  
  


Larissa made her way down the stairs in the main hall in search of her mother. The dimmed lights in the main hall warmed the open space with their glow.  
  


She had barely seen her in the few days before the move. Both of them had been busy preparing for the move, her mother in her lab and Larissa assigned together with the rest of the trainees to the communal spaces of the compound. Her mother had left one flight before Larissa one of the SHIELD cargo plane that had been packed full with stuff.

She curiously turned down one of the halls that stemmed off of the main entrance. As she turned a corner, her heart jumped at the sight of a guard standing there, slumped against the wall next to a heavy-looking door.

He too jumped when he saw her and immediately snapped out of his sleepy daze, straightening and blinking his eyes as if he was lost for a moment.

“Hi,” Larissa said softly as she took a step closer, “I’m looking for my mother-, Doctor Belmonte. Do you know where I can find her?”

“Oh yeah,” he held his hand in front of his mouth trying to ward off an incoming yawn. “Let me ask real quick. You’re Larissa right?” he asked as he clumsily grabbed his walkie talkie off of his belt.

  
She nodded and sent him a tightlipped smile, feeling bad that for the fact that this man had been assigned to guard a door all night.

“Requesting entrance to the lab for Miss Belmonte, over.”

A word of confirmation came from the walkie talkie a few moments later. The man stepped to the side and pulled the door open for her, allowing her to pass. She thanked him and began her descent down the well-lit stairway.

The stairs that led her down reminded her again that this was once a functioning bank. It was clean-cut and sterile but a lot more pleasant to look at then the concrete walls she’d grown up around.

At the bottom of the stairs, she turned into a room lit by fluorescent lights. Through the bars of a gate, she could see her mother working in the room beyond, hunched over her desk and surrounded in moving boxes and crates.

Another guard opened the gate for her to pass through.

Besides the mess of boxes and half-unpacked equipment, safety deposit boxes lay scattered around the room. A fair few had been pulled out from their designated slots in the wall and had been left scattered over the tile floor. Their irregular pattern made the wall look like a jigsaw puzzle of brass-colored squares and empty spaces.

Larissa looked back at the guard when he closed the gate with a metallic click. She furrowed her brows. She was being locked in. There was a guard at the door and a guard at this gate and definitely another one watching the camera's that she had seen in the halls. This place was guarded like a fortress. Why lock them in too?

She pulled her hands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt feeling the uneasiness of her anxiety grow.

The sound of the gate closing made her mother look up from her work. “Hey, hun,” she said with a tired smile, “Were you able to get some sleep?”

“Yeah, I got a few hours in. Did you even sleep at all? I don’t remember you coming in.”

“I rested for a while. You know how jetlag is. I figured I might as well make use of my waking hours to get my unpacking done.” She gestured to the boxes that were stacked nearby. “Want to help?”

“Sure,” Larissa said as she grabbed a Stanley knife off of the desk before she kneeled down beside one of the boxes.

When the guard standing outside of the bars shuffled his feet, Larissa looked back at him again, feeling as if she was being watched even though the guard wasn't looking in their direction. She reached out, tapping her mother’s leg to get her attention and dropped her voice down to a whisper. “What’s up with all of this security anyway? They locked us in.”

Sure, there had always been security at the SHIELD base she had grown up on but it was always of the outside, making sure no one could get in without authorization. And of course, there were security checkpoints inside of the building, denying or providing access based on whether or not they were allowed to enter the labs. Other than that she had barely ever seen a guard on the inside.

This place was a different case entirely. It was almost as if they were keeping something inside. She couldn't help but worry about what her mother had gotten herself into this time.

Her mother rolled her eyes as she let out an amused huff. “Tell me about it. To be honest, I think this might be the first time Brock is responsible for an operation of this size because he’s going complete overkill. It’s not like this is a new project.”

“He is pretty intense. I don’t know how you’ve been dealing with him for so long. We were here for less than ten minutes and Alex looked like he was already having regrets for agreeing to come here.”

“That sounds about right.”

A silence fell between them as they worked.

“Mom?” Larissa’s hand felt clammy but she wiped them on her pants roughly. “I was wondering if maybe we could, you know, only if you have time and all-“ She stopped herself and took a deep breath. “Can we go do something together one of these days? Just the two of us.”

Her mother’s eyebrows shot up. She eyed her daughter with a bit of concern. “What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Something normal. Making the most out of the fact that we’re living in a populated area again.” Larissa said with a nod. “I’ve been looking into the Smithsonian museums. They have some cool exhibits.”

“That would be fun. We should do that soon.”

Larissa dared to express her feelings further. “I really had hoped that moving here would have put us in a more normal living situation though” she sighed.

Larissa was painfully aware that she wasn’t living like any other young adult of her age. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to go to college or move out and live on her own or meet other people of her age. She hadn’t gotten the chance to. She was given the opportunity to develop herself within SHIELD. Moving away and starting her own life wasn’t met with enthusiasm, from her mother or from SHIELD.

SHIELD held the reigns of her life. And it seemed they would continue to until her mother's work was done.

“I know,” her mother said with a tight-lipped smile, “but we should try to be grateful that SHIELD is giving me this opportunity to make a difference with my work.” She gestured to the messy room around her. “I assume this is all just temporary.”

Besides her mother's tone of voice, her slumped shoulders or the dark circles under her mother’s eyes, just seeing her there, in a dusty basement of an old bank, surrounded by boxes and technology, was more than enough for Larissa to know. Her mother was exhausted. Not the kind of exhaustion that sleep remedied. No, her soul was tired.

“Are you okay, mom?” Larissa asked timidly. It wasn’t a matter that was talked about between the two of them very often.

The tense muscles in her mother’s face visibly softened. She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “Being here brings back a lot of memories.”

“Of dad?”

“Of him,” She nodded meekly, “Of the time we spent together in D.C. before we got recruited by SHIELD. They were good times.”  
  


“If what you are doing now isn’t making you happy, you should take some time off.” Larissa couldn’t even remember the last time her mother had taken a sick day.  
  


Her mother’s face hardened and she sat back up. “That’s not an option. This study is important.”  
  


“SHIELD can probably find someone to hold the fort down for a week,” Larissa said hopefully, “Or even just a few days. You deserve a break.”

“Drop it. It’s not an option.”

The barred metal door clanked against the wall, causing both of the women to jump.

“Everything alright in here, ladies?” Brock asked as he entered the room. The way he walked and spoke exuded confidence.

Larissa mentally scolded herself for judging him for that but it didn’t make her want to be around him more. He was going to be her boss for the time being. She needed to be more considerate.

Her mother quickly composed herself, wiping her face with the palm of her hand. “Everything’s fine.”  
  


“You look tired, Audrey.” Larissa took note of how Brock’s brows crease with concern. “Go rest. I can get you some sleeping meds if you want them.”

“Sleeping pills won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer. I’ll try to lay down for a bit.”

Brock nodded his face a masked with understanding. Larissa felt guilty for having misread him as careless and self-absorbed. Maybe it was just negativity Alex had talked into her that was clouding her judgment.

“Well in the meantime, I’m going to steal away your daughter,” Brock said with a nod towards Larissa, as he motioned towards the stairs. “Since we’re both awake, I might as well explain the security protocols to you.”

“Sounds delightful.”

Brock chuckled at her comment and led the way back to the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read my story! This thing started as my Nanowrimo project in 2018 and has now grown into a 120k word draft. I’m still working on the ending and on editing. I’m excited to get this out into the world! :)
> 
> Important note: I will be updating the tags and ratings as I go along. Once I change the rating to explicit I will note that at the beginning of the next chapter that I upload. Any trigger warnings will also be noted at the beginning of the chapter that they apply to.


	3. Chapter 3

The floor and walls radiated cold. The air had gone stale along time ago.

He didn’t mind the cold but he hated the way his head pounded and his lungs felt like they couldn’t get a full breath of air. He curled his legs up to his chest.

He remembered nothing but waking on the cot in this metal box. Part of him hoped this was his coffin.

** ________________________________ **

Within a few hours, Brock had managed to show her every nook and cranny of the building. He took the time to point out every camera, talk her through the more common security protocols and explain what she must do when she spotted something unusual.

He'd gone over every topic she could imagine she would need to know whilst working here.

Everything except for the basement that is. It gave her the feeling that it was off-limits for her.

They had moved to sit in the control room, where he explained the tasks she was expected to do while she watched the camera footage.

The square live feeds filled the screens. The footage was from both inside and outside of the building. From here she could watch people walk by on the sidewalk, in a hurry to make it to work on time. She could see the others who worked in the building leave their rooms, in search of breakfast or a shower. She even spotted Alex, who was returning to what she suspected to be his room with a cup of Starbucks coffee in his hands and a content look on his face.

Despite all that was going on as the inhabitants of the building woke that morning, she couldn't help but be drawn to the figure in the bottom right feed.

She tapped the screen. "He's what this is all about, right?"

When Brock didn't answer her she glanced over at him.

"What makes you say that?" His brows raised cockily and he leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms.

He was challenging her. It amused him. She could tell.

"Well,” she looked for the words to explain her hunch, ”you’ve shown me the entire building except for the basement and there are multiple people standing guard _and_ a gate securing it. He seems to be in some type of cell but you haven't shown me or even mentioned it which lead me to believe it's above my authorization."

She squinted taking a closer look at the man that was huddled in the corner of the image. "Is he-," she blinked, clearing her eyes to get a better look. "Is he locked in a safe?"

This had once been a functioning bank after all. A logical place to lock up something of value was the safe, which would likely be located in the basement. In the hallway beyond the safety-deposit box room her mother was transforming into her personal lab, perhaps?

Brock let out a hum of confirmation. "You are right on all those accounts. But most importantly on the fact that this is above your authorization."

"But he's the reason we're here, right?"

"He’s the reason your mother is here. He's part of her research."

"Who is he? If SHIELD is keeping him here instead of at the Triskelion then I can't help but think that he's not participating out of free will and that this whole thing is being kept out of the books."

“You are more perceptive than I thought you were.”

Larissa didn’t take that as a compliment. She narrowed her eyes. "So I'm right?" She let her sentence trail off.

"I didn't say that you were right. I just said that you are more perceptive than I thought."

“Isn’t this illegal?” she said tapping the screen again.

Human experimentation. Most likely without the consent of the participant. She needed to remember to add that to the top of the 'Shady-things-SHIELD-has-done' list.

"It’s for your own good not to get nosy about this. You don’t have the clearance. Your morals won't change things you don't understand. Need I remind you that you work for SHIELD and SHIELD does the things they do to protect? Your mother’s work will save lives, plain and simple. Don’t question SHIELD's authority."

"I’m not, I just said that involuntary human experimenting is illegal-"

"He’s just a prisoner."

"Criminals, prisoners, murderers, they’re all humans. Yes, they deserve to be reprimanded and should never form a danger to society but they still deserve basic human rights. You don't always know what drives people to do what they have-"

Brock's face went grim. “Trust me, there is no human left in that man.”

A rapt of knuckles on the door frame made the two turn around. A man Larissa didn't recognize stood there with a phone in hand.

“Rumlow, you have a call-“

“I’ll be right out. Wait in the breakroom.”

Brock stood up but didn’t leave yet. He towered over her as she was still sitting. Her back pressed further into the chair and her breath caught in her throat when he leaned closer.

“It would do you well to just do your job. I don’t need you to use your moral compass. I need you to sit here, watch the feeds and scan documents. Is that clear?”

She nodded, scared to use her voice only for nothing to come out.

"Good"

He glanced over his shoulder to the door, and she let out a breath of relief, but instead of leaving, he leaned in closer.

She was eye level with his Adam's apple. It bobbed as he inhaled deeply. All she could do was sit there like a deer frozen in the headlights.

_W_ _hat the fuck was he doing? Did he just sniff her hair? _

She wanted to get as far away from him as possible. Even melting into the chair felt like a viable option at that point.

"Coconut" He commented, confirming that she wasn't just imagining things. He _had_ sniffed her hair.

He took a step back and smirked upon seeing her sitting there, eyes wide with fear and holding her breath. She feared tears would fall if she exhaled.

“See you around, Larissa.”


	4. Chapter 4

"- which is how I got recruited for SHIELD. But it was a long process. Oh, wait! I just remembered that I haven't told you about the time I was working on one of SHIELD's first helicarriers and the Avengers were there! This was before they were officially 'the Avengers' but it still was-" Brain story was cut short when he saw someone at the door. "Oh Alex, hi!"

Honestly, Larissa was happy for the interruption. Brian, the guard who she had caught sleeping in the hall the first night she was there, had been talking for the past 15 minutes. He jumped from the one story to the next, leaving no room for her to ask questions or to tell him politely that she had to go. She had agreed to meet Alex outside 10 minutes ago.

Now that he was there looking for her, she could let out a sigh of relief.

"What are you doing here?" Brian asked.

"Looking for Larrissa.” Alex motioned towards her with a look that feigned surprise. “And I think I have found her."

Alex turned toward her. "You coming?"

"Yeah." She got up from her chair and grabbed her coat off of the hook in the corner. "Thanks for the chat, Brian. It was interesting to hear about your SHIELD origin story."

"Your welcome. I'll have to tell you about the time I was in the same room as Peggy Carter next time I see you."

"Great. I'm already looking forward to it."

Alex walked ahead of her down the hall and out the back door before she felt safe enough to whisper, “Thank you for saving me. He wouldn’t stop talking.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be working?”

“I guess he’s just really good at multitasking. He was supposed to take over my shift 30 minutes ago but then he started this whole long story about all the people he’s met since he got recruited. He was really excited. I couldn’t just leave.”

Alex shrugged. “I mean, you could have. You’re just too nice.”

"I couldn’t stop him! He started talking about how proud his mom was when she heard he had taken down three Chitauri when they were invading New York.”

“You need to put more priority on yourself. If you want or need to go somewhere you should say it. You can’t always have people go walking over you like that.”

“It makes me uneasy.”

“I know”.

The midwinter sun reflected in the puddles on the sidewalk. The sun and crisp air were refreshing after her shift in the control room that had started early that morning. It was a bright winter afternoon. The sky was wide and blue and there wasn't a cloud in sight. Larissa was thankful that she was off now and could spend some time with her friend.

"Let's walk down to Joe's," she said as she stretched. "I need a cup of coffee."

They had been in Washington for two weeks now and the time that they got to spend together doing normal things was her favorite.

‘Joe's coffee house’ had become their go-to place for coffee. She was very excited about it. She had never had a go-to place before.

Despite only being in D.C. for a short while, Larissa could tell that being in an actual city, in the vicinity of actual normal, non-SHIELD staff members was doing all of them good.

“This is one of the best things that has ever happened to me.” Alex murmured under his breath. He stopped and closed his eyes, appreciating the glow of the setting afternoon sun on his face.

“What? Moving in with your brother?” Larissa joked, giving him a pointed look.

He threw his head back with laughter. “Oh god no. I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing him. I meant moving back to Washington after so long.”

“After meeting Brock I am seriously confused about how the two of you are brothers. He straight up sniffed me as an intimidation tactic last week.”

  
Alex stopped in his tracks, pulling her to a stop with a gentle hand on her shoulder. His face was wide with shock. “He did_ what_?”

“I pissed him off but questioning some stuff. It’s fine." Larissa waved it off and continued walking. "He’s stayed away from me since then and hasn't brought it up so I think he’s over it.”

“He’s a pain in the ass, always has been. When we were kids I lived in his shadow, and that with high achieving parents.” He whistled lowly.

When he continued talking his voice was several pitches higher than normal. “This is our son Brock. He got scouted for SHIELD’s special training program at 16, has a black belt in taekwondo and is the top student in his class."

"Oh, and this is our son Alexander," he continued. "He likes to play outside but we can’t even let him do that by himself because he has fallen out of the same tree three times.”

Larissa moved her hand in front of her mouth to stifle her laugh. “Oh come on. You're my most talented friend.”

“What the fuck, Larissa. I’m your only friend!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air with a look of betrayal on his face.

“I get what you mean though. About moving here." Larissa said sobering a bit. “Barely remember living here before SHIELD moved my parents. It's just so nice to see people living here. Like actual people. People who have lives outside of SHIELD."

“And to be able to go to the grocery store down the street if you want something to eat,” Alex added. “Or just going for a walk outside and being able to see other things than trees for miles and miles. I feel so blessed." He sighed.

“I'm glad they let both of us come. I’d go crazy if I didn't have anyone else, besides my mom, to rant about how much scanning and watching surveillance footage sucks.”

Now, two weeks into her job, Larissa felt a bit stupid for thinking that she actually had been offered a job with growth opportunities as Alex had been. For the last week, she’d been confined to the four walls of the control room.

“SHIELD doesn't let me do anything else,” she continued. “I don’t think they don't trust me. Your brother definitely doesn’t trust me.”

“I bet he heard about your aim.”

His teasing comment earned him a playful shove to his arm. The way he winced upon contact didn’t go unnoticed by Larissa.

“You’re hurt?” Her eyebrows creased.

“It’s nothing-“ He tried to brush it off but was interrupted by Larissa.

“You don’t want me to notice that you're hurt.”

His secretiveness offended her more than she felt comfortable to admit. The two of them were teammates, confidants, and friends. Him trying to hide something from her was completely out of character in their friendship.

The last time Alex had lied to her was when they were 14. He had broken her father’s cooking pot that she kept on her bedside table to function as a plant pot. Not wanting to hurt her feelings he had told her he didn't know anything about it. He hid from her for a full day before finally telling her the truth. She’d never seen him look so guilty in his life as he did back then.

He pressed the palms of his hands to his eye. “I’ll never be able to hide anything from you, will I?”

“Show me.”

“You're like the mom I never really had.”

“Alex-“

“All right. Let's go inside first.”

Alex held the door for her. The warmth of the cafe made her cheeks and ears tingle as they began to defrost.

They ordered and scooted into a booth toward the back of the cafe.

Without a further explanation, Alex unzipped his winter jacket and took off his hoody, exposing his arms.

She couldn’t help but gasp when the wash of purples that were revealed to the daylight. His skin was littered with bruises, in a variety of shapes, sizes, and hues.

She sat there, stunned and looked for a logical explanation of who or what could have done this too him.

There were too many bruises to be from a fall, she knew that much, which meant that they were likely caused by another person. Her eyes widened when it dawned on her. “Did Brock do this to you?”

“Brock? It was just an accident,” Alex tried to reason.

“There’s a freaking handprint on your arm, Alex. This is more than an accident. This is a beating."

“It’s nothing to worry about. They’re training me," he said, pulling his hoody back up over his arms and glanced around at the people sitting nearby. “Brock wants me to join them on missions. It’s kind of a big deal.”

That wasn’t enough for her to drop the concerned look.

A lopsided smirk appeared on his face and he let out an amused huff. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “I bet you never thought there would be a day I would voluntarily choose to take order from my brother, did you?”

She rolled her eyes at him but then took his hand. “ Just,” she sighed, “Please take care of yourself.”

“ I will try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I can’t blame Brian for fangirling over all of the 'famous' SHIELD agents that he has 'met'. I’m pretty sure that if we lived in the MCU, half of the fandom would try to get recruited by SHIELD just to get a glimpse of Steve Roger’s star-spangled ass. XD
> 
> (Sidenote: In my first draft Brian kept on getting autocorrected into Brain for some reason. If you see that just let me know.)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who’s been reading, subscribing, leaving kudo’s and comments. It means a lot to know that people are reading and hopefully liking the story so far. Yesterday the hit count passed 100 and I was so excited, you don’t even know.


	5. Chapter 5

The muzzle of the pistol was pressed harder against the skin under his jaw. His body shuttered unvoluntary at the feeling.  
  


Even if this was all for show part of him wished they would just do it.

Pull the damn trigger.  
  


The nothingness of death would be kinder to him then the fuzzy purgatory they held him in. 

**________________________________**

The next few weeks were quiet. Larissa did her best at the work she was given while also trying to not draw too much attention to herself. She wanted to be trusted enough to be taken seriously. After her conversation with Brock, she realized that verbalizing her opinions didn't help her trustworthiness.  
  


Any free time she got she spent exploring the area. Alone.

Brock had been keeping Alex busy. Once his training officially started, she had barely gotten to see him. Last week Brock had deemed Alex ready enough to join them on a mission for the first time. They had been gone for two days.

She felt happy for her friend. He was a fast learner and an excellent marksman and would definitely find his place in the fieldwork they were sending him out on. But she couldn’t help but feel mournful as she sat there in the control room.

Scanning. Filing. Checking security footage. Repeat.

It surprised her when it hit her one morning that she actually missed living at the compound. Despite being in the middle of nowhere and being the ugliest building she’d ever seen, her memories of the place filled her with warmth. The people were kind there. She and the other kids had grown up alongside one another, causing a warm sense of comradery to blossom between them.

Not like there was anything to go back to now. The building had been emptied when her mother and the other scientist were moved out. Only a concrete shell remained of the place she’d grown up in.  
  


The other security guards here didn’t pay her much mind. The fact that almost all of them were keeping the contact to the bare minimum made her feel even more alone and isolated then she had ever felt in the compound middle of the Siberian taiga.  
  


Out of all of the guards, only Brian talked to her. He took pride in mansplaining the world to her whenever he stopped by the control room.  
  


Every once and a while Jack Rollins, the man in charge when Brock was away, made an effort to strike up a conversation with her. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit intimidated by his tall, buff physic but she could tell he tried to make her feel welcome when he came to take over her shift.

Never the less, boredom and loneliness were ultimately what drove her to start getting out more. Morning runs along the mall became a routine despite the winter chill. When she wasn’t working in the cursed control room or exploring the area she spent her time reading at the library.

It was on one of those early mornings, when Larissa felt in the mood for some exercise, that she saw _him _in person, for the first time.

She had just left her room and was almost to the stairs when commotion from the backdoor echoed into the hallway.  
  


Men’s voices, the stumbling around of boots on the marble floors and the sound of the door being pushed just a little too hard causing it to slam into the wall echoed into the foyer.  
  


They were back from the mission.

Her heart leaped with joy, glad that finally, Alex was going to be around to keep her company.

But it was the sound of Alex pleading in a whispered voice that made her retrace her steps back into the hallway where she had come from and press her back against the drywall. His voice was urgent but too soft for her to hear.

_What was going on? Was someone hurt?_

In the protection that the shadows of the hall gave her, she was able to look through the balustrade into the main hall. They couldn’t see her from where they were entering through the back door in the corridor below her. She needed to know what was going on before she let herself be seen.

“It doesn’t matter!” She could hear Alex say.

“Like hell, it doesn’t," Brock answered, speaking much louder than his brother. "The sooner you understand how this thing works the better.”

The sound of footsteps moved out of the corridor and into the main hall. She dared to peek around the corner of the wall.

Two armed men stood by the tall brass-trimmed front doors, armed and very alert.

She watched as Brock entered her line of vision, pointing at a spot on the marble floor in front of him, eyebrows raised, eyes hard as they always were.

That’s when _he _stepped into her view. The man she’d seen so many times in the bottom right corner of the computer screen.

“On your knees.”

Brock’s order was followed by a moment of silence before the man sunk down onto his knees. All the while he kept his gaze downcast.

Larissa gasped as Brock raked his hand into the prisoner's hair and pulled his head closer. Even from her hiding spot, she could see the way the prisoner's cheek was pressed tightly to Brock’s hip.  
  


_What was he doing to him?_ She knew Brock was a person with dubious morals but he wouldn’t force himself onto someone. _Right? _  
  


Her hand moved to cover her mouth, scared to breathe in fear of being caught witnessing something 'above her authorization'.

With his free hand, Brock reached for his handgun out of his holster. “Take this,” he said, handing the weapon to an extremely pale-looking Alex.

“Brock, this is crazy. What are you doing-“

Alex’s plea was cut off when his brother grabbed his hand that held the gun and pulled it to the prisoner's neck.

“Hold it!" Brock released his brother's hand. "Yeah, right under is jaw, right were his jugular is.”

She could tell that Alex was shaking. It caused Brock to laugh mockingly before returning to his serious self. “Do it like you actually mean it.”

Alex adjusted his stance.

“That’s better," Brock chuckled. "Do you feel that? He’s scared. He can murder with his bare hands, kill without flinching and still. This. Us. What we can take from him and make him do. His body betrays him and makes him shiver. Can you imagine? After all the fucked up shit he’s done, he still wants to live.”

“Brock,” Alex’s face was a mask of horror, “It doesn’t feel right.”  
  


“Oh, it will soon enough. Learn to wield the weapon that SHIELD has given us. Cause that’s what he is. He’s our weapon. Our Iron fist. Treat him like it.” Brock’s grip released on the prisoner's hair.

The prisoner's head lulled back a little before he held himself straight.

“He won’t remember what you do to him anyway. Not after she puts his brain back through the blender. But he knows his place.” Brock tapped the man’s cheek with his gloved hands. “And soon, brother, you will know your place within this team.”

Larissa turned and quietly walked back to her room. Her face was warm and her hands were cold. Her queasy stomach and upset mind made her not want to go for a run anymore.

**________________________________**

Later that afternoon Larissa was sat in her usual spinny chair in the control room. She was sorting through the latest box of files that had been sent over from the Triskelion so she could scan them later.

She sat up and straightened her back with a stretch before reaching for her mug of tea. As she took a sip, her eyes danced over the black and white frames before her attention was drawn to the bottom right frame, like it always was.

His knees were pulled tight against his chest as he sat against the wall on the floor next to his bed. She leaned in closer to the screen, trying to make out his face more clearly on the slightly fuzzy imagery. His eyes were staring straight in front of him into the nothingness of the room he was kept in. His gaze sent a shiver down her spine.

With nimble fingers she pulled up the footage of the main hall from that morning, typing in the timestamp that she alarm had gone off that morning. Her cursor wavered for an instant before she opened the file and the images began to play.

At first, the hall was empty. She skipped through the footage until the door from the back corridor opened and the team came stumbling in. She winced when Brock grabbed the man’s hair again, pushing his face up against his groin.  
  


Seeing the whole incident play out from closer only made her feel even more sick to the stomach then it had that morning.  
  


“You know SHIELD isn’t paying you to watch re-runs of things that happened earlier, right?”

She jumped, her tea spilling out of her mug over her fingers. She hadn’t heard anyone come in.

Jack Rollins stood in the doorway, one eyebrow cocked upward, eyes curious and calm. Not mad like she would have expected them to be when caught doing something other than work.

“I’m sorry," she stammered as she dried her fingers on her pants. "I wanted to-“

“Brock shouldn’t have been so sloppy. The main hall is a communal space.”  
  


She frowned, not quite knowing what he meant.

“I saw you this morning,” he said with a nod.

“You forgot that there is a single camera at the end of the hall upstairs.” He shrugged when he saw the way her eyes went wide. He sat down in the chair beside her. “It troubled you to see that, didn’t it?”  
  


She nodded, looking down at her shoes.

She usually felt small beside him, like she didn’t deserve to be here in the first place. Now her moral values were making her feel even more inferior.

“Try not to worry. SHIELD knows what it’s doing. You’ve been doing great work here. It would be a shame if something as trivial as not understanding the full picture would make you repulsed by an organization whose goal is to protect.”

“It just doesn’t feel right.” Her words echoed Alex from earlier that morning. “Protecting who? And at what cost?”

“You’re perceptive to that, feelings, the vibes that people give off. I can tell.”

He wasn't wrong. She hadn't met many people who saw her perceptiveness as a gift. Most just thought she was a pain in the ass and talked about that behind her back.  
  


“Try not to worry. Everything is happening according to a plan. You’ll be alright in the end,” he said with a nod and a small smile.

“In the meantime,” he continued, “your mother is asking for you. Something about lunch. I’ll take over the last hour of your shift.”

“Thanks.” She began gathering her things and wiped up the spilled tea with her sleeve. “I’ll try to keep what you said in mind.” She said with a small smile.

His words had left her feeling a little lighter than before.

Still, she knew she needed to confront her mother about what she had seen. It would be the only way she could attempt to let this go, even if it seemed completely wrong from her own point of view.

Her whole life she had been painfully aware that she didn’t know the full story or understand what was happening around her. She was raised in an American intelligence organization's bunker, for Pete's sake. Of course, she wasn't allowed to know all that was going on around her.

If this was one of those things, she’d have to find a way to live with it. Even if her gut was telling her that this wasn’t okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, Brock Rumlow is turning into the piece of shit we all know he is. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It would mean the world to me if you took the time to leave a kudo or a comment!
> 
> (lol I’m absolutely clueless when it comes to guns. Can you tell? XD)


	6. Chapter 6

“I used to come here a lot,” Her mother said as she draped her jacket over her chair before sitting down. The cafe was lively at this time of day, filled with people who wanted to enjoy the falafel pita's that this café was oh so famous for.

“With dad?” Larissa asked as she took off her jacket and places it on the chair beside her.   
  


“No this was even before I met your dad. My friends and I would come here after class or in the weekends. They used to have a bunch of board games in the back. We would order drinks and play or just talk. We spent hours here.”  
  


Larissa smile. She loved seeing her mother happy at the thought of memories from her past. “How old were you?”  
  


“I must have been your age when we first started coming here. Early twenties I suppose.”  
  


The food came and the two of them talked about what her mother had been like in college and how it was to grow up in D.C. as they ate.  
  


“So, what do you want to do after this?” her mother asked, taking the last few sips of her coffee.  
  


“What do you mean? I thought we were just going out for lunch.”  
  


“I asked for the afternoon off. I’m free to do whatever you want to. I told Brock not to call me unless there is an emergency.”   
  


"Really?" Larissa's brows creased, not ready to completely believe that her mother took time off to spend with her.

Her mother nodded, "Like you said a few weeks ago, I need to give myself a break from time to time."  
  


A smile broke out on Larissa's face. “Well, in that case, I’ve been wanting to the Smithsonian museums since we got here. I hear they’ve got a Captain America exhibit.” She wiggled her eyebrows toward her mother, “Don’t try to even hide it. I know all about your secret crush.”

“What? I don’t have a crush. It’s just that the scientist that pulled that off was an actual genius. I wish I could have been there-”

“Sure mom.”  
  


“-so I could thank them for blessing this earth. Have you seen his body?”

“You can stop drooling now.” Larissa chuckled and took the last sip of her tea.

Sure, he had undergone a miraculous body transformation but the thing about him that amazed her the most was how he resilient he was.

"It’s an amazing accomplishment and all but can you imagine waking up 70 years later and have everything and everyone you know and love be gone. Talk about emotional reliance.”

Her mom smiled at her contently.

“What?" Larissa sat up a little straighter, feeling a little too observed for her liking. "Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You are going to make someone very happy someday.”

“You’re my mom, you’re supposed to tell me that,” Larissa sighed.

“Oh but it’s true. Your heart is so compassionate-.”

A soft ding came from her mother’s phone that lay screen down on the table. Larissa watched as her mom winced before shooting Larissa an apologetic glance as if asking for permission to check the message

Larissa felt her excitement deflate from her body but still, she nodded. She fiddled with her fingers as her mother read the message.

“I’m sorry. I need to go back.” Regret was written all over her mother's face. “Maybe we can hit up the Smithsonian some other time.”

“I’d like that.”  
  


Someone else needed her mother more then she did right now. She understood, her mother was an important person, but it still hurt. Sometimes she needed her mom not be important to others, so she could be important to her. The thought alone made her feel selfish.

Her mother nodded with a distant stare. Her mind was already somewhere else as she collected her things and stood to put on her jacket.  
  


“I’ll walk back with you,” Larissa chimed, trying to recapture the happiness she had felt minutes before in her voice. She reminded herself to be thankful for the time her mother had taken to go to lunch with her. It was a good step in the right direction.   
  


The elder woman paid and they both exited the restaurant into the winter chill. Her mother's eyes scanned the sky, her brows furrowed at the sight of imminent dark clouds on the horizon. “Are you sure you want to walk back with me? If you still want to go somewhere on your afternoon off- “

“No, it’s fine. I want to go back.”   
  


In truth, Larissa didn't feel like walking around by herself.

The women walked side by side at a brisk pace, hurrying to be 'home' before the storm broke.

“So” Larissa started, looking for words. She was painfully aware that the window for asking questions about SHIELD was closing with every step they took in the direction of the bank. “Lately, I’ve been wondering a lot about what all SHIELD’s is having you study. Brock barely gave me any details about the whole thing. And, well, I saw some things this morning that made me concerned. Jack told me not to worry about it but I just, I don’t know. It just all doesn’t feel right. I’m scared of what you have gotten yourself into.”

Larissa glanced over at her mother, trying to gauge how she was reacting while also trying to keep her hair from flying into her face. By no means did she want to offend her mother by questioning her about her ethical decision making behind her work but she couldn’t let go of the nagging uncertainty she felt pulling in her chest.

"I just feel like if I understand why you are okay with all the stuff that is going on, I can be okay with not knowing the situation in full. Even if it seems unethical from an outside perspective."  
  


Her mother sighed, eyes flitting up to meet her daughter's gaze. “I’m not going to lie, it’s been hard for me keeping everything as secretive as SHIELD wants it to be. I’m a scientist, not one of their agents.” Her lips pressed together in a tightlipped smile, before continuing, “But SHIELD is the one facilitating my study so I do what they ask.”

“What can you tell me?” Larissa tried to pry onward. There had to be something her mother could tell her to soothe her worries. "What are you studying? Anything. So I can be a bit more at ease."  
  


Her mother's pace slowed a bit as she pressed her hands in front of her face and mumbled a barely audible _‘Brock’s going to kill me’_ before looking up at her daughter who was patiently waiting.

“If I tell you, you need to promise me you will drop this and stay out of it,” she said pointing her finger in warning. "You need to promise me. Digging into this is dangerous. SHIELD is powerful."  
  


"I promise. I'll let it go."

Her mother nodded before she continued her brisk walking pace. “I’ve been studying how the human brain processes memories. We start with a blank slate. I target the parts of the brain that hold memories with electromagnetic currents. ”  
  


“So the prisoner,” Larissa narrowed her eyes, “you’re basically frying his brain?” She couldn’t hide the disgust she felt from her face. “Did he consent to this? The way SHIELD is treating him is un-humane even if he is some type of criminal.”   
  


The look of regret was already visible in her mother’s eyes. She let out a deep sigh and massaged her temples. “This my study will save millions of lives of people who have different brain disorders, amnesia and dementia. SHIELD knows that they must sacrifice one person in order to save many.”  
  


Larissa paused, not knowing how to process this new information. “I heard Brock call him their weapon. How is he useful to SHIELD?”   
  


“I don't know. I'm not involved with-“  
  


“I feel like you do know, Mom,” Larissa interjected, “They take him out on missions. I saw them come back with him, just this morning. You can't convince me that you don't know something about what they are using him for."

“I shouldn’t have told you anything. You need to stop asking questions. Everything I’ve done up to this point has been to protect you. They will take you away from me if you continue pushing. Brock has already been keeping an eye on you.”   
  


“What?” Take her away? Was she only there as insurance of her mother's cooperation?  
  


Her mother reached out, hand placed gently on her arm, stopping her from walking further. “You need to stop. I need you to promise me you will let this go. For your _own _safety. Drop it.”

Larissa set her jaw. She’d never been defiant as a child but she couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to do the exact opposite of what her mother was asking of her right now.

“Promise me!” her mother urged. Her hand tightening its grip on Larissa’s bicep.

“I promise.” It was but a mere mumble and would have been lost to the wind if her mother hadn’t been standing close enough.

**________________________________**

The crisp night air eased the stress and tension in her body as Larissa sat down on the rug she had lugged up to the roof. Petrichor still hung in the air from when it had rained earlier that day. She could hear the water trickling in the gutters that surrounded the roof plateau.

Last week she had found this roof access point when she was wandering around the building, feeling rather bored and aimless while Alex was gone. This evening was the first time she was making use of it.  
  


Laying back, she marveled at the clear night sky above her. Although the stars weren’t as bright here in the city as she knew them to be in Siberia, the view of the night sky made her feel at peace. Her breathing could slow and her heartbeat could finally come down from the anxiety-induced rhythm it had been beating in the whole day. Her body needed to rest. Being trapped inside with people who seemed to be fine with whatever was going on wasn’t helping her nervous system.

In all of this, she couldn't help but question if she was overreacting. It wouldn't have been the first time she had reacted with more intensity then what was necessary for the situation. But on the other hand, presumably non-consensual human experiments, yeah she couldn't think of a reason why that wouldn't be a dire situation.

The sound of the metal door creaking open burst her bubble of warmth and made her push herself to sit, suddenly feeling exposed in her moment of quiet vulnerability. Light from the hallway streamed out onto the plateau. A silhouette of a head peeked around the corner.

“Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking all over,” Alex said pushing the door open further and joining her outside.   
  


“Hey," She smiled at him and patted the rug next to her, scooting over so there was plenty of room for him to join her. "I heard you got in this morning. We must have just missed each other. Can I even ask you how the mission went or is that classified as well?”   
  


“I don't know but I’m not going to lie. It was pretty shitty.”  
  


“I’m sorry to hear that.” She drew her hands into the sleeves of her coat.

He shrugged before plopping down next to her and looking up. “Wow, the light pollution sucks.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I know. I enjoy the city sounds, though. I felt like I was suffocating in there. Being out here makes me feel freer and ironically less alone.”  
  


“Hey!” Alex exclaimed, “You’re not alone. You have me.” He placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I know. It’s just-“ She let out a deep sigh, a silence fell between them for a moment. “I feel like I haven’t seen you for weeks.”

“I _have_ been training a lot.”

“It’s more than just that. I’m tired, Alex. All of the crap SHIELD is doing here. Something doesn’t feel right. And I don’t know what to do with it.” Her voice became louder as the frustration she felt inside took over.

“Maybe I'm just overreacting. We both have been raised within SHIELD. I just don’t think that I'm cut out for working at an intelligence agency.

He pulled her against his side. His hand stroked her shoulder absentmindedly. “I know what you mean. The mission thing wasn’t what I was expecting it to be.”

The way his sentence trailed off. The absent look in his eyes. She could tell he was reliving something. He pursed his lips together before continuing.

“You know how I’ve always said we could leave all this behind.”  
  


She turned to him, a pained expression on her face. “And go where? Your brother would have a tizzy fit and come hunt us down. Besides, I can’t leave my mom.”  
  


He glanced at her, eyes soft and knowing. “You can’t or you’re afraid to?”

Her silence was an answer in itself.  
  


“I’m just glad we’re here together,” he said after a moment. “At least I can vent about Brock to you.”  
  


Larissa swallowed hard. “I saw what happened in the hall this morning.”

She felt Alex grow rigid against her. She didn’t have to explain for him to know what she had meant. He didn’t even try to pretend like he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. He wanted to teach me a lesson.”

Alex never hid bullshit and she liked him better for it.

“Does it bother you?” she asked.

“You have to be more specific,” he said with a scoff. “A lot of things are bothering me.”

“No one will even tell us what that guy did to get himself into this position.”

“Brock told me he is a criminal. Said he got what he deserved.”

She may not know him well but the idea of Brock being completely honest and upfront seemed to be a rare occurrence.  
  


She cocked her brow. “You actually believe him?”   
  


“I don’t know. But that guy, I’ve seen what he can do now, Larissa. His technique is excellent but he is ruthless. He doesn’t flinch when he kills.”   
  


A shiver went down Larissa’s spine. Her eyebrows lowered at the thought of what Alex must have witnessed to know this information.  
  


“It’s almost like it doesn’t even bother him. Like he’s not even completely there.”   
  


Larissa could tell by the look in his eyes that he could see the moment right before his eyes.

“Maybe he's like that because my mom shocks his brain as an experiment.”

“She told you about that?”

“You knew?” she asked, pulling away from him, feeling even more bewildered.  
  


“I’ve been there when they’ve done it." He said shaking his head. "As part of my training, of course. But the whole mission was like nothing I had ever seen before. I still feel shaky.”

“None of this is right.”

Alex’s hand rubbed over her back again. "We're going to make it through this okay? Please just be careful who you talk to about this stuff. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know.” It wasn't even the first time she'd heard that today.

Larissa held her hand in front of her mouth as she yawned, “I think I need to be off to bed. I’ve got the morning shift, tomorrow.” She got up, stretching her arms above her head.

“Okay, I’m staying out here a bit longer. You were right. The stars are shit but the sounds are calming,” he chuckled.

“Good night, Alex” She sent him a small smile before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

She released a sigh. It all didn’t sit right. She just hoped her friend took his own advise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, do you think Larissa is going to drop it? (O-O) Yeah, I think not.
> 
> I had a breakthrough yesterday about how to tie up some of the loose ends in part of the story I've been struggling with. I'm really excited about it! Hopefully, things will go smooth sailing from there on out with editing and rewriting.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Have a nice day!


	7. Chapter 7

A shock went through her body when Alex woke her by shaking her shoulders. She was confused and started but still, she followed him with sleepy eyes and slipper clad feet down to steps to the basement. A draft of cold air had her pulling her sweatshirt down to cover her hands as they descended.

“I tried to tell them to keep you out of this, but he wouldn’t listen,” Alex whispered as he held the barred door open for her, allowing her to enter the safe box room.

Instead of answering her attention was on the room around her. As she looked around and the pit of uneasiness in her stomach only grew. The basement was now filled with her mother’s tech with at the center of it all, a metal chair that seemed to be able to recline similarly to one you’d find in a dentist's office.

This is where it all happened. Why was she even here?

It was quiet, besides the sound of her mother typing at her desk and Brock who was occupied with talking to someone via his earpiece in the corner. She turned back around then, realizing that not even a single guard was positioned by the barred door or at the door at the top of the stairs.

Larissa nudged Alex with her elbow. “Where is everyone?”

“You're only here because we’re short on staff and your mother refused to do her job without an extra person on hand,” Brock answered before Alex could respond, having heard her question.

Well, at least he was being upfront about it now.

She ignored Brock’s challenging stare and made her way over to her mother. Her mother sent her an apologetic smile and grabbed her hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Sorry to wake you. We're a few people short. Brock wanted to go ahead with it anyway but I have a safety protocol to uphold”

_Well, that’s ironic._

“Don't worry. It'll be fine.” She assured her daughter when she saw Larissa’s eyes grow wide and then narrow as she realized what was about to happen while she was present.

“I thought I wasn't allowed to be a part of this. Just last week you didn't want me near any of this. Why the change of heart?”

Her mother sighed. “I still don’t want you involved but like I said, I have a safety protocol that involves a set amount of eyes and hands to uphold. And since Brock over there believes that holding a gun is more important than helping me,” her eyes flashed over to Brock, “I need you if I don’t want to take unneeded risks." She took Larissa's hand and led her over to one of the screens next to the chair.

“All I need you to do is make sure these dials never get into the red zone,” she said, tapping the glass dial with her nail.

The circular dials were now blank and inactive. Blood pressure. Brain stress. Nervous system activity. All labeled on small plaques below the respective dials.

"Heart rate is measured up here. If it goes above 230 beats per minute or any of the other dials get into the red zone, you hit this button to turn everything off."

Larissa nodded obediently but wanted to have nothing to do with this at the same time. She knew she needed to see for herself what was going to happen but she was deading it none the less.

The sound of heavy footfalls coming from the top of the stairs alerted everyone in the room. Brock said something into his earpiece before he turned to Larissa, pointing his finger out at her in warning. “Rollins put in a good word for you. He thinks you have potential. Don’t make me regret involving you,” he said, before setting his jaw.

A wave of eerie silence fell over them when he stepped into the room.

He was dressed in all black. His brown hair fell into his face and a mask covered both his nose and his mouth. He was like a dark faceless creature one would conjure up in childhood nightmares. His dark demeanor made her hold her breath.

She almost couldn’t believe that this was the same person she had watched sit huddled in a ball on the floor of his cell for hours on end. He looked powerful, so much so that it made her want to be anywhere but in this room, so near him.

Two guards followed him into the room and closed the door behind them with a heavy clank, locking all of them in the safety-deposit box room.

His footfalls were heavy and with much intent, toward Brock who was standing in the middle of the room waiting for him.

It was then that she recognized the heaviness of his gait, the way his left steps were heavier than the right. It only could be a result of his arm that was completely metal and reflected in the TL lights overhead.

He stopped right in front of Brock. Neither of the men moved. When the prisoner’s hand went to his holster on his right hip and pulled his weapon from it, Larissa’s hands shot up to cover her mouth as a gasp escaped her. _What was going on?_

Brock extended his hand, taking the weapon from him without any resistance. The prisoner proceeded to pull out a plethora of knives, guns and other weapons she couldn’t even recognize from his belt, calf and shoulder straps.

Larissa looked over at her mother, searching for reassurance, only to see her mother wasn’t even watching. She was now fiddling with the cables that connected the chair to the machine behind it.

Larissa turned to Alex who was standing in the corner of the room behind her. He shot her a tightlipped smile, trying to assure her that it would all be alright. The gun that he held in his outstretched hands pointed straight at the prisoner did little to reassure Larissa.

“Mission report,” Brock gravelly voice said from the middle of the room.

The man’s low voice was muffled by his mask. “The target is dead. No witnesses”

  
Brock’s body visibly relaxed. “You did well, soldier” Brock reached out and pulled the mask from the man’s face. “Sit down.” He pointed at the reclining chair her mother still fiddling with.

Her mother took a step back behind the control panel when he walked over. When he sat down his piercing blue eyes flashed over her mother and then Larissa but didn’t seem to really pay any attention to either of them.

As intimidating as he might seem, his eyes were completely void of emotion. Larissa took a deep breath and forced herself to look away and act busy.

Brock, who now was standing next to the chair, pushed the man backward. His metal arm clunked against the metal seatback.

Larissa watched as her mother handed Brock a bright blue teeth guard. The bright cheery color seemed so out of place in the room. It almost looked iridescent. When Brock held it in front of the man he automatically opened his mouth and allowed the guard to be placed on his teeth, seeming to not even have to think twice about the action. It was an automatic response to him.

“Larissa, can you push that blue button?” Her mother asked from where she was plugging in cables into equipment behind the chair.

She reached over the console and pressed the button her mother had pointed at. With a mechanical whirring noise, metal cuffs enclosed the man's arms and legs, bolting him into place.

Now that he was completely pressed against the chair, the equipment behind him looked like a halo of metal above his head.

She must have looked as disgusted and frightened as she felt because Brock snapped at her to get back to her seat behind the screen with the dials.

She felt the man's stare follow her as she walked back to her seat.

Once back in front of the screen, Larissa watched the steady rhythm of the man's heartbeat and waited, with dread in her heart, for what she knew was going to happen next. She clasped her sweaty palms together in her lap.

Her mother sat back down behind her panel of buttons and switches. Brock stepped away from the man and gave her mother a quick nod.

The machine lowered over the man's face. His hands balled into fists.

Electrical sparks fizzled off of the machine before it abruptly clamped over his head. The guard in his mouth muffled his screams but they were heart-wrenching and made her stomach turn.

The lights flickered overhead.

Larissa watched, eyes wide in terror as the man convulsed in the chair. She looked away, not wanting to watch him suffer any longer

A light tap on her back forced her to look up again. Alex pointed at the screen, reminding her why she was here in the first place. She was supposed to do her job.

On the screen, his once steady heartbeat had accelerated. The dials shot back and forth, not entering the red zone by a tiny bit.

Her hands were now shaking. Clasping them together did nothing to stop them from trembling.

Larissa looked at Alex, looking for some type of sign that she wasn’t the only one in this room that realized what was happening wasn’t okay. Somehow Alex looked more relaxed than he did a minute ago.

She looked around at the others in the room. Weapons that had been raised towards the prisoner moments ago now hung by their sides. Their expressions were blank as they watched. How was everyone so calm as the prisoner’s body shook so violently in the chair? How were they okay with torturing someone in this way?

The screaming stopped. The chair stopped shaking. The lights stopped flickering overhead. Larissa watched the dials slow down and fall back into the green zone while his heartbeat continued to hammer on.

The cuffs released his arms and they fell off out of them, completely limp. He had passed out.

  
It was her mom's voice that brought her back to the commotion of the room. “We really need to do something about that generator," she mumbled from her desk.  
  


“I requested a new one at the Triskelion today. Should be here in a few days.” Brock grunted as he pulled the passed-out man to a sitting position. “Alex? A little help here!”

Larissa leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to get away from here. It was her shallow breathes and tingling hands stopped her from leaving. If she were to stand up now, she knew she was going to pass out.

“I told you this was going to happen.” She didn’t need to see Brock, to know that the comment was about her.

Alex patted her shoulder before he scurried over to help his brother. They hoisting the prisoner between the two of them and pulled him out of the room. Their shuffling and grunting faded down the hallway at the back of the safety deposit box room, leaving Larissa and her mother alone, give or take a guard or two.

“Are you okay?” Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder.  
  


Larissa immediately shrugged it off and stood up. The world didn't spin as much as she had expected it to. She took that as a sign that she'd be able to make it up the stairs on her own. A guard opened the barred gate for her as she left the room in a hurry.

“Try to go back to sleep,” her mother called after her as she ascended the stairs.

Larissa scoffed.

Oh yeah, great idea mom. She would just doze off into a peaceful sleep after witnessing all the people in her life being okay with torturing someone.

The things that had happened in the basement replayed in her mind until she subcomed to a dreamless sleep. It plagued her. Even as she twirled her fork in the steaming cup of ramen noodles the next evening, she couldn't think of anything else.

She felt so confused. Her mother wasn’t a bad person. Larissa knew that for certain. Her mother was blinded by her work. If something caught her attention she would go for it. But torturing a human being in the name of science? That was a whole other level of morally wrong, especially since she couldn’t imagine that the prisoner had consented to any of this.

Larissa's thoughts felt more tangled than the noodles she was stirring.

The door of the breakroom opened, causing her to clench the plastic cup more tightly in her hand, annoyed at the fact that she wouldn’t be able to sit here alone, brooding in silence. Her hand relaxed slightly when she saw that it was Alex who entered.

“Oh, ramen!", his eyes lighting up, "Are there more of those?”  
  


“Middle cupboard. Top shelf. I stocked up today,” she mumbled.

Alex excitedly prepared his noodles and sat down across from her on the worn sofa. She didn’t have to look up to know that her friend’s eyes were filled with concern.  
  


“Are you okay?”, he asked before he took a bite.

She shrugged and looked away. “Last night really shook me up.”

“That’s understandable.”

“How often does she do that to him?”

"They’ve put him in the chair about once a week since we’ve been here, usually before or after a mission. Brock doesn’t tell me much. I guess it’s above our clearance grade."

She shook her head, doing her best to understand her friend despite her revulsion for what had happened. “How are you okay with all of this?”

“I’m not,” he bit back. She could see that her question offended him.“But like I said, I want SHIELD to take me seriously so I can get the hell away from my brother. And in order to do that, I need to follow his orders.”

“Sorry,” she said meekly. “I just don’t feel good about this.”  
  


“I know.” His voice softened. “We just need to trust that SHIELD knows what they’re doing.”

Larissa wasn’t sure if trusting SHIELD was something she was capable of doing right now.

She finished her cup of ramen, placing it on the ground next to the sofa before turning back to Alex. By the way his eyes twinkled, and a grin spread across his face, she knew he had an idea.

“Enough of this sad shit. Let’s do something fun. I’m off tonight and it's only 7:30.”

“What do you have in mind?” She wouldn’t mind getting her mind off of all this, even if it was for just a little while. There was no way she’d be able to figure all of this out by ruminating hours on end.

“So I found out that there’s an arcade a few blocks away.” Alex's smile changed into a mischievous grin. “I bet you 10 bucks I can beat you at Taiko: drum master.”  
  


She couldn’t help but smile. “Bring it, Rumlow.”


	8. Chapter 8

Rays of early spring sunshine were breaking through the gray winter clouds. Their subtle warmth started to melt away the snow that lingered alongside the roads in mushy brown piles. People were stopping, just for a second, to feel the warmth on their pale faces. It had been a mild winter but the sun hadn’t shown its face in weeks.

Spring was finally melting away the remnants of winter, but Larissa had been holed up in the control room all morning. She could only watch the people stop to stand in the sun on the sidewalks outside the building from her computer screen.  
  


And the prisoner? He knew even less about the weather outside, she mused. He hadn’t been taken out of his cell at all in the past few days. She could tell that he was feeling uneasy and restless. He had paced around his cell listlessly all morning, like a wolf trotting in circles in its den.

With a glance at the monitor, she noticed that he had now had laid down on his cot, eyes dully staring at the ceiling.

She sighed, trying to ignore her feeling on the matter and get back to scanning but when she reached down for a new file to scan, she felt her resolution snap.

This was torture and she wasn’t going to be participating in this any longer. They were keeping him in complete isolation for god sake!

She glanced down at her watch. Since the 'witnessing brainwashing' thing from a few weeks ago, Larissa had been tasked with something new.  
  


While she was on duty she had to prepare his food. It was 30 minutes before she usually brought him lunch but she decided that she had waited long enough and marched down the stairs to the basement after grabbing the meal tray from the break room.

She held the meal tray that she had assembled in her hands and held a book pressed against her side with her right elbow. She’d grabbed the first book she had spotted when the idea popped into her head. The Hobbit had been laying on the break room table where she’d left it that morning.

Of course, she didn’t know what type of books he liked but almost everyone liked some good old Lord of the Rings. It’s a classic.

She found that the basement was quiet when she rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs. Her mom was at the Triskelion today so her workspace was empty. A lone guard opened the barred door for her.

She had noticed that fewer guards were stationed around the bank in the past few weeks. A few did rounds from time to time and on most days one could be found guarding the barred door to the lab. She chalked it up to Brock getting a handle on this operation. Now that they knew that the safe could hold the prisoner and that he was compliant to their orders Brock probably felt that it was safe to move some of the guards to other positions.

She quickly walked through the safety-deposit box room into the narrow hallway at the back. Her knees cracked as she crouched down and slid the open the makeshift sliding panel at the bottom of the safe door.  
  


She had wanted to say something to him but now grew unsure of her words. The flash of uncertainty caused her heart to speed up. She pushed his food through and then the book and closed the panel again. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the guard hadn’t been watching her.

In the least suspicious way possible she hurried past the guard and back up the stairs and plopped herself down on the spinney chair to watch him.

To her dismay, he did not acknowledge the food or the book. She sighed, looking back down at the box and picking up the next file she was supposed to scan.

When she began labeling the scanned document in the computer she saw movement from the corner of her eye. She rolled her chair to the other side of the desk so she could watch the screen more closely.

He’d gotten up out of the bed and now knelt down and picked up the book, flipping it over in his hands, almost as if he was unsure of what to do with it.

He grabbed the food tray in his metal hand and brought the book and his food with him to the floor next to his bed. He flipped open the cover and read.

A smile crossed Larissa’s lips and she went back to work on the scanning that had to be done. But out of the corner of her eye, she happily watched him as he ate and read.

It wasn't until the next morning, while Larissa was walking down to the control room to relieve Alex of his duties, that she really started to think about what consequences her actions could have if discovered by the wrong person.

She hastened herself to the room and opened the door. Upon seeing her Alex sprung out of his chair, pulled her into the room by her wrist and closed the door behind her with a bang.

“Are you out of your mind?” His eyes were angry, more so than she had ever seen before. “You gave him the book didn’t you?”  
  


Larissa yanked her wrist from his grip, glaring at him for grabbing her so suddenly and harshly. “Yeah. I slid it through with his food tray yesterday.”

Alex took a step back, stunned. “You are actually crazy. You need to stop mingling in this. Do you know how pissed Brock is going to be when he finds out?” Alex ran his hands through his dark short hair, probably already imagining his brother’s rage.

“Look at him, Alex.” She stepped past him and pulled up the frame of the cell on the computer screen. Just like the day before, and every other day she worked here, he was laying on his bed, eyes open and staring straight above him. The Hobbit lay beside his cot on the floor. She hoped that meant he had finished it.

“I am sick and tired of seeing him staring at the ceiling all day long. They only take him out of there when they plan on frying his brain or take him out to kill God knows who," she said, waving her hands around her. “They have him in an isolation cell. Do you even know what that does to the human brain and psyche? Google it, it's fucked up. I gave him a book. Just as a way to pass time. Not a weapon.”

His hands dropped from massaging his neck to his sides. He looked defeated.  
  


She let out a deep sigh. “Besides your brother dislikes me no matter what I do.”  
  


She took a step closer and placed a reassuring hand on Alex’s shoulder. Her face softened when she saw his dark circles. She could practically see him ruminating by the look he had in his eyes. “You’re tired, Alex. Go get some sleep.”

His brown eyes looked at her, really looked at her, filled with concern. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t want Brock to hurt you”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Brock is not even here.” She gave her best friend a tight-lipped smile. “I have to bring him breakfast in a bit. I’ll go ask for the book back and your brother will never know.”  
  


"What if he doesn't give it to you?"

"I haven't thought that far. I guess I'll have to go in there. I bet Brian would open the safe for me."

His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. “What the fuck! No, you’re not.”

“Why?”

“Oh my god.” His hands moved to cover his eyes again as if looking at her would cause him physical pain. "You are actually crazy. He’s dangerous. He can kill you. He'll overpower you and break out and-”

“With what? The spork that he uses to eat with?” She scoffed as she turned away from him to open the door.

“Don’t joke about this! You haven’t seen what he can do,” Alex said gravely.

“Well, in that case, I guess you’ll have to come and protect me.” She winked at him before she marched down the hall to the break room, not really expecting her friend to follow. She twirled open the bag of bread and put two slices in the toaster while she prepared the rest of his breakfast tray.  
  


“You weren’t kidding about the spork, were you?” Alex asked from the doorpost a few minutes later, watching as she placed the spork on the tray.

“Nope. It’s the only utensil your brother thinks is safe enough to give him,” she said. “Only plastic sporks of course.”

She walked past him and to the door of the basement. He followed close behind her.  
  


“You really don’t trust me, do you?” She looked over her shoulder at him.

“Oh no, I trust you. It’s him I don’t trust.” Alex opened the barred door for her, using the key that was attached to his keychain on his belt. “Asking for it back won't work. He never responds in this state. He becomes completely dissociative. Stay behind me and I'll get it back before Brock sees it and kills you.”

A few moments later he opened the safe, handgun drawn and pointed unwaveringly at the man sitting on the floor against the wall. ‘The Hobbit’ lay at his feet. To her, the mossy green cover looked very much out of place on the dull metal floor

Larissa followed Alex in and set the food down at the end of the bed. She walked passed Alex, who made an unhappy sound of protest and knelt down in front of the prisoner.

“I hoped you liked the book. It’s one of my favorites.”

His eyes stared straight into hers. Despite her not being all too worried about getting the book back at first, Larissa couldn’t help but feel vulnerable now that she was face to face with him. He had carried out so much darkness after all. Even if it had been forced. Maybe she should have thought this through. She picked the book up off the floor and stood back up.

She turned to leave but stopped in her tracks. Now standing in the middle of the cell she realized how much smaller it actually was compared to her view of it from the computer screen. The thought of sitting in here, trapped, for days on end caused her shoulders to drop and her breathing to catch in her throat.

She may not be able to get him out of here but the least she could do was bring a small part of the outside world into his cell. She looked back over her shoulder at him. “I can bring you another book sometime if you like.”

“Larissa” Alex grumbled beside her. She knew that this interaction was already far too long for his liking. She couldn’t blame him for wanting her out of there. She wondered if she would still feel okay about wanting to help him if she actually knew what he had done. For her own moral sake, she hoped it wasn’t just ignorance that was allowing her to have empathy towards him.

She turned and walked out. Alex backed his way out behind her, gun still pointed at the prisoner until he stepped over the threshold and closed the safe as quickly as he could.

“You are going to get yourself killed,” he said and he passed Larissa up the stairs.

She couldn’t help but smile at her friend with gratitude as he grumpily trudged his way up to his bedroom.

“Thanks for helping me! I hope you sleep well.”

  
**________________________________**

The heavy door swung closed with a dull thump. The suction of it ruffled his hair.  
  


He was very confused.

He didn’t recognize the woman. _Larissa_, as the companion called her.  
  


_She_ had given him the book.  
  


It had confused him at first. When he began going through the book, he was only focused on gathering intel. They would never give him something if it wasn’t for a mission.

It was only when he neared the middle of the confusing book and still couldn’t put together what this retained to, that he began the book again.

This time, reading the words instead of glancing them over. Reading to pass the hours that seemed to melt together endlessly instead of systematically gathering information.

She had given him a way to pass time.

He _wished_ he could remember her.

He knew he wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Am I judging Larissa (and myself for making her) do stupid things without ‘thinking about the consequences’?  
-Yeah. 
> 
> Do I want to change it to make her less naïve rn?  
-Lol no. Bear with me, folks. I’m trying :P


	9. Chapter 9

It was the end of March when Larissa remember that she hadn’t gotten around to visiting the Air and Space Smithsonian museum yet. She had been saving it to when her mother could join her, knowing that her mother would enjoy the Captain America exhibit.

That day hadn't come yet and Larissa was tired of waiting for something that might not come for a long while. Today was her day off and she was going to let her interest in the exhibit overcome her wish to visit it together with her mother.

The morning sunlight filtered through the newly sprouted green leaves as she walked along the street. Although it was early, the pleasantly warm air promised another comfortable spring day.

When she arrived at the museum 30 minutes after opening time, it was somehow already bustling with people. Tourists, mostly.

She wandered around the main hall for a while, admiring the planes, rockets and space shuttles before her attention was caught by the sign for the Captain America exhibit. A smile crept onto her face. She pushed her way through the crowd and into the exhibit.

Although Larissa wasn't as obsessively invested in the whole story as she knew her mother be, she still was impressed by the bravery and perseverance that Steve had shown. By going against all odds as he had, she knew he wasn’t just physically strong. He was mentally strong as well. She wished she had more of that.

She was walking past a glass display when something made her do a double-take. She stopped in her tracks and took a closer look.   
  


It was a memorial plack for one of Steve's close friends, who'd died during the war. A black and white photo of a man staring contemplatively into the distance accompanied the text explaining the bravery of this man. Her jaw dropped.

Larissa blinked a few times and squinted. She must be seeing things because this James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes looked exactly like the prisoner from the bank. Aka SHIELD's asset, as she had heard Brock call him many times now.

_It couldn't be him._

Her mind grasped for a logical explanation. The man back in the basement didn’t look older than 30. James Barnes was born in 1917 making him 97 years old if he was still alive. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he had died in combat.  
  


Maybe he had a son before he died? Him and Steve were young when they joined the army but they definitely were old enough to have left a girl back home when they went to war. Or maybe they just had some fun during their time in the army.

She knew it couldn't be but she couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that this Bucky Barnes guy looked so much like SHIELD’s ‘asset’.

She walked around the room with a renewed passion, in search of more pictures of him.   
  


Maybe it was just the way the picture was taken that made them look so much alike. Maybe it was just an old picture, discolored and deformed over time to look similar to the person she knew from her screen. Old pictures tended to have a way of doing that after spending the better part of a century in someone's attic.

  
Larissa stopped in front of a small screen. Steve and this Bucky guy were standing next to each other laughing. She had never seen the prisoner smile and for that, she couldn’t blame him. The video was grainy but the resemblance was there. Was it even possible for a son to look so much like his father?

Larissa left the museum confused. If the asset was Bucky’s son he too would have been old by now. She did the math in her head. His son would have had to be almost 80 years old.

It definitely couldn't be Bucky. He would have been almost 100 now and he definitely didn’t look 100. But at the same time, somehow Steve was still alive and looking like a five-course meal after being frozen in ice for 66 years. What if something similar had happened to Bucky? How could an unaltered human even survive something like that?

What if SHIELD cloned him? The possibility scared her.   
  


She shook her head absentmindedly. She wished that she could argue that SHIELD wouldn’t do something like that but with the unethical science they had her mother doing, cloning wasn’t that much more dubious.  
  


But why go through the effort to clone _him? _What made _him_ any more special than any other soldier that died in action?  
  


Her mind floated to the two boxes of files that had been stashed in the corner of the room she was sharing with her mom back at the bank. Due to her mother's wishes of her not getting involved she had never even though about looking through those notes. Until now, that is. She needed answers.   
  


She hurried back to the bank, expecting it to be as quiet and serene as she had left it early that morning but when she swung open the back door, she was met with the bustle of agents. It seemed like Brock was heading out on a mission. And by the looks of it, more agents were involved than usual.   
  


She spotted Brock barking out orders to the men around him as they geared up. Larissa felt herself looking for Alex in the crowd but she couldn’t spot him.   
  


She slipped through the bulky bodies, hoping to go unseen by her boss in the chaos.   
  


When she reached her room and opened the top box she quickly came to the conclusion that she hadn't this through. The box was filled to the brim with manila folders containing everything from blueprints to hastily handwritten notes to pencil sketched designs for machines.   
  


A sigh of exasperation left her lips, cursing at the lack of time her mother had put into packing these boxes.   
  


The sound of a man’s voice drifting up from the main hall caused her to look over her shoulder at the doorway.  
  


This was going to take a while. She randomly grabbed 3 thick worn folders out of the box and stuffed them into her backpack. She’d feel a lot safer looking through these at the library.   
  


Larissa’s free afternoon was spent doing just that. But to her dismay, with no luck. Early on she realized most of what she’d grabbed were blueprints and unreadable notes. A sad smile appeared on her face when she recognized a few were written in her dad’s scribbly handwriting. There’s no hope of deciphering that.  
  


3 or 4 folders at a time she went through the whole first box that week. Her brain tried so hard to come up with possible explanations but she needed proof. Proof was a hard thing to find in a scrambled pile of papers that barely made sense to her.

She was about to give up when she found it.

It was an inconspicuous piece of paper. The slightly frayed edges felt fragile to the touch and the paper that must have been crisp white at one point in time had long aged into a light sepia color. Never the less, the date was unmissable. _September 18, 1947_.

Her eyes scanned downward reading over the letter and noting the signature at the bottom. _Armin Zola, w_hoever that was. She'd have to google him.

Behind the handwritten letter, there was another page, folded neatly together with the first. It seemed have been sent along with the letter long ago.   
  


She unfolded it with care. Her heart jump when she realized the pencil-drawn lines formed a mechanical sketch of a prosthetic arm.

She was able to comprehend the notes in the margins of the page well enough to understand that they were instructions on how to make the limb functional by attaching it to the human nervous system.

Though she hadn’t seen it up close, she unquestionably knew that this was it. This was _his _prosthetic arm.

She covered her eyes with her hands. Plans to make a prosthetic arm identical to his were made in the 1940s, only 2 years after Bucky Barnes had fallen from the train. Knowing that this was only going to spiral her into a whole new realm of rumination at that moment, she snapped pictures of the documents with her phone and clicked on the Internet app to do a search on Armin Zola.

_“Doctor Arnim Zola worked from HYDRA before and during the second world war. He was recuited by Johann Schmidt to become the lead scientist of HYDRA. He designed many advanced weapons to aid HYDRA’s quest for world domination. He was captured by the Allies before the end of the war. Later he was offered a position in the newly formed peacekeeping organisation, SHIELD. He died in 1972.”   
  
_

She raked her hands into her hair, already feeling the onset of a headache at the base of her neck. She looked around herself, taking in the normal people, doing normal-people things at the library while she was halfway to having an anxiety attack. Why could life not be more simple?

Resolutely she scotched her chair back, feeling the need to get outside into the fresh air as soon as physically possible. Gathering the files she’d been going through into a pile, she put them in her backpack except for the letter. She wanted to handle it with extra care and put it in the book she was currently reading to protect it from being jostled around on the bike ride home.

When she picked the letter up off the table something fell out and floated down onto the floor.

She bent down to retrieve the white square, picking it up between her pointer finger and her thumb and flipping it over.

The moment she saw the image on the other side she dropped it again. A gasp escaped her; her chest rose and fell faster than before. This was it. This, in combination with the letter and sketch, was proof she had been looking for.

His hair may have been shorter, his head may have been lolled to the side, away from the camera as it took the shot of his gruesomely severed arm, but it was him. She was damn sure of it.

She took a deep breath, clammy hands gripping the side of the table to help her stand.

The man in the basement wasn’t a clone or an identical-looking son. He _was_ Sargent Bucky Barnes.

A war hero and close friend of Captain America was being held in a safe modified into a cell, where her mother also happened to do experiments on him. _Holy fucking shit._  
  


Unsure about what to do with this information she decided to return the files to the box as soon as possible. She noted the tremble in her hands, how cold they felt as she interlocked them, trying to still her tremor.

Times like this she would usually go talk to Alex about the things that made her anxious but right now she felt she needed to keep this to herself, at least until she knew more about what was going on.


	10. Chapter 10

Despite not feeling ready to talk to Alex about what she had found, it didn’t help her mental well-being that Brock had brought Alex along on that mission again. On top of that, her mother had been working more at the SHIELD headquarters in the past weeks, leaving Larissa feeling alone.

At the bank, everything had been quiet. Only a few guards had been left to work security.

It wasn’t often that Brock and Alex left on a mission without 'the asset' but given the quiet state of the building, this moment gave her the perfect opportunity to try to get some answers.

While debating how to go about this, she tiptoed down the stairs to the basement. Her clammy fingers gripped the food tray a little bit tighter. Would he even respond if she asked him anything?  
  


She shifted the tray to her one hand, using the other to unlock the barred door with the freshly minted key she had received just before the guys went away on the mission. Since there wasn’t always going to be someone around to open it for her and she came down there to bring him his meals almost every day, Jack thought she deserved to finally have a key of her own.

They trusted her, sort of. Well, everyone but Brock did.  
  


The door squeaked on it’s hinges as it opened. She crossed the lockbox room and walked down the hall, stopping and kneeling in front of the safe door.  
  


The key to the safe door was a whole other story. She didn't have the key for that, and honestly, she didn't want to deal with the being of being entrusted that key. Receiving that key meant Brock trusted the person and that one could handle themselves well enough. She lived up to neither of those criteria.  
  


She slid open the little slot at the bottom of the safe door and pushed tray and another book through the slot.

It would function as a peace offering. It would put him in a good enough mood to answer her questions and give the book back when she brought him dinner. At least, that's what she hoped.

Instead of closing the slot and leaving, she stayed there squatted down beside the door.  
  


With her right hand, she fished the square of yellowing photo paper out of her pocket. She looked down at the photo in her hand one last time before deciding. She gently placed it on the floor directly under the slot, where it was still in view for her.  
  


“This-" She cleared her throat when her voice came out more hoarse than she had expected. “This is you, right?” she asked him softly.  
  


Her question was met with silence until she heard the shuffle of his feet on the floor. A pale hand reached down, picking the photo up off of the floor and taking it out of view.  
  


She gave him a moment to look at it before repeating herself. “That’s you in the picture, right?”

Again, no answer.  
  


Instead, his hand came back into view of the little slot at the bottom of the door and pick up the food tray and the book.  
  


She felt relief, thinking he was going to slide it back through the slot but instead, she heard him walk away.  
  


“Uhm,” she sought for words, “Sorry, I really need that back. It’s evidence.” She looked over her shoulder. No one else was in the basement but that didn’t mean someone was doing rounds. "I need that back. I'm trying to help you."

She looked back at the slot. Her time was up. If she spent any longer down here someone was bound to get suspicious. She had to leave.

She stood up again, mentally kicking herself as she returned to her desk in the control room. This is what happened when she didn’t thoroughly think things through. She hadn’t even though of snapping a picture on her phone of the photograph.

She rubbed her face with her hands._ Stupid._ She couldn’t go on making mistakes like this. It wouldn’t end well if she didn’t think before she acted.  
  


Through the gaps between her fingers, she peered at the screen.

The photograph was nowhere to be seen. He was just sitting in his usual spot against the wall reading her personal copy of 'The Book Thief'.  
  


She needed to figure this out. She was there witnessing it all. She knew information about an injustice that was being kept from the public. It was her responsibility to act upon this. Even if it scared her. Even if it could cost her everything. This was wrong and inhumane. She needed to find the truth

In order to do all that she had to be smart. She had to stop doing stupid shit like handing off evidence without thinking about preserving it first.

A short half an hour later, she had a USB with photos from the cameras in the building. She even was able to find a halfway decent shot of his face without a mask on when he came in with the team one evening.

She included the pictures she snapped of the letter from Armin Zola and the blueprint for the prisoner's arm.

All that was left was leaving it somewhere safe.

She tapped her lips with her fingers while she thought. She couldn’t have it in her stuff. It wasn’t safe to assume that no one ever went through her things. It would have to be a place accessible to her but couldn't be traced back to her. Preferably somewhere she had easy access to.

She took the steps two at a time as she hurried up to her room. She made sure not to look straight at the camera when she passed it in the hall.

Laughing echoed from the breakroom downstairs. At the door to her room she looked back down the hall before pushing the door open with her shoulder.  
  


She had just returned to the control room with a hoodie, since she had to be inconspicuous about why she had gone back to her room during her shift, when the sound of the back door slamming against the wall echoed from the hallway.

With nimble fingers, she pulled up the security footage of the hall and cursed. She pushed her chair back, leaned back and covered her face.

Brock, Alex and the team where back. Early. A day early to be exact. Her mother followed behind them, a few files in hand. By the looks of it, she wasn’t happy with him, her free hand waved around as she expressed her anger animatedly. Brock didn’t seem to take much notice of her. Larissa's eyes darted to the other screen where the prisoner still sat reading the book she’d given him not an hour earlier. Anxiety began pumping through her veins.

As long as they didn’t need him right this second, she would have a chance to plead him to give the book back when she brought him his dinner.

Evidently her prayers weren’t heard as the group made a beeline to the basement.

_She was going to get busted._

Her hands were still cupping her face when the big heavy door of the cell open moments later and Brock entered.

There was no sound to accompany the video feed but she didn’t need sound to know that Brock was shouting. Her book was unceremoniously wrenched from the prisoner’s hands and flung against the wall.

Alex, who entered behind Brock visibly jumped. He turned, looking up at the camera with a look that could only be described as fear. “_You’re so fucked”_

A shiver rolled down Larissa’s spine when she saw how Brock picked up on Alex’s look at the camera. He too turned to stare at what she knew to be the small globe attached to the inside of the safe. He set his jaw and grabbed the prisoner with a firm grip on his flesh arm, pulling him to his feet and out of the cell.

Out of _her_ line of vision.

Another curse word fell from her lips as she blinked the tears away from her eyes.

Everything inside her told her to run. She wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there before Brock came to get her, but she knew it would only make matters worse.

So she waited, with her breath tight in her chest and her eyes glued to the feed of the hall outside of the room she was confined to.

She watched as a group of guards walked by laughing, on their way to their rooms. When Jack Rollins appeared in the hall she could feel her shoulder start to shake.

The door opened quietly. "Hey."

  
She didn’t bother to turn and look at him.

“What’s going on? You’re shaking.” He took a step closer and grabbed her chair back, turning her around to look at him.

She shook her head, eyes refusing to meet his. “Brock’s going to kill me.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I did something. He has a reason and now he’s going to get rid of me-“

“That’s stupid. He can’t-“

The door slammed open behind Jack causing Larissa to jump in her chair. Her hands gripped the armrests tightly. Her face was taught as she watched Brock come towards her.

  
Brock’s face was flushed with anger, his eyebrows were furrowed. “Who the hell do you think you are?” He pointed a shaky finger in her direction.

He took little note of Jack and pushed his way past him to get to her.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Jack grabbed Brock’s arm before he could get any closer to Larissa. “Lay off of her.”

  
Brock’s nostrils flared and he shook himself loose from Jack’s grip.

  
“You were wrong, Rolins." Brock's finger jutted out in her direction once more. “This one is exactly like her father. She might be even worse," he scoffed. “Now get out of my way. I see no need in losing two employees today.”

  
Jack’s eyebrows knitted together. He let go of Brock’s arm and took a step back, submitting to Brock's command.

Brock stalked towards her. “You are messing with things you shouldn’t. What is it going to take for you to understand your place?”  
  


“He deserves to be treated like a human being,” she managed to say before being blown away by Brock’s angry onslaught of words.

“He's SHIELD's property. You don't get to make decisions like that. Hell, you shouldn’t even be giving him a second glance. You’re here to do your job. That’s it.”  
  


She stared at her boots, not daring to look him in the eye any longer. “I only gave him a book.”

His calloused hand grabbed her jaw and forced her to look into his eyes. A new surge of panic had her flattening her back further into her chair and digging her fingernails into the armrests even harder.

Her whole body tensed up. She wished she could get his hands off of her but she knew trying that would make matters worse. All she could do was lock her jaw and harden her stare, trying to keep the tears that prickled in the corners of her eyes from falling.

“You may want to treat him with compassion but he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. I can make him kill you.” Brock released her face.

She couldn't keep the anger she had felt in the last few weeks subdued any longer. “He’s your pawn. You and my mom are making him do things he would never do out of free will.”

Brock chuckled under his breath and crossed his arms. “You think he’s capable of being saved, don’t you? You want to fix him.” His smug grin widened. “You are a naive little girl.”

Before she could respond his hand enclosed around her wrist and he pulled her along with him out of the room.

She looked back at Jack as panic rose in her chest again but Jack refused to make eye contact with her.

His grip tightened as he manhandled her down the stairs, making her wince. She refused to plead for him to let go of her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting her.

When her mother saw her being pulled along, she tried to jerk herself free from the guard that was restraining her next to her desk. “Rumlow! She is off-limits. That was the agreement!”

“She broke that agreement when she started getting nosy.” Brock motioned at the guard holding her mother. “Get her out of here.”

  
Tears flooded her eyes as her mother was dragged past her. Larissa could hear her mother struggle and plead all the way up the stairs until the heavy door fell shut behind them with a reverberating thud.

Brock pulled Larissa through the barred doorway that Alex held open. He closed it after they had entered.  
  


When their eyes met she could see the pain flash through his eyes. She wanted to reach out and grab onto the bars, to grab onto him, like a life raft that would bring her to safety. But she couldn't. She had gotten herself into this mess, and he was just doing his job.

Brock released her arm and continued walking towards the prisoner.

Larissa barely noticed him sitting there, but the sight him holding his head in his hands as he sat hunched forward in the chair made her breath catch in her throat. His hair was damp with sweat. They had just wiped his memory.

The words bubbled out of her before she could even think about what the consequences would be for her. It was almost like a defense mechanism, a final attempt at saving herself from the situation.

She needed _him_ to hear. Maybe it would be enough for the grip Brock had on his mind to loosen ever so slightly.  
  


“I know who he is, Brock. I saw a picture of him in the museum. It didn’t take that much effort to figure it out after that.”  
  


Brock turned to face her, eyebrows low, looking like he was about to snap.  
  


“He's not some criminal. He fought for the freedom of the world as we know it. He was willing to give his life for what he believed in and now you are doing this to him.” Her hands shook in fists at her side.  
  


She looked at _him_, addressing him directly. "I know your name."  
  


With hopeful eyes, she watched the prisoner but if he heard and understood her words, he didn’t show it.  
  


Larissa’s stance deflated. She took a timid step back when Brock began to stalk towards her.

“So you _were _the one going through your mother's notes. She noticed. We thought we had a guard trying to blow this thing open. But now I wonder if she was trying to protect you.” He grabbed her face again. His fingers dug into her jaw uncomfortably. “I should have known,” he cooed, “that you would turn out to be a humanitarian, like your father.”

For the second time, he mentioned her father. Had Brock actually known him or was he trying to push her buttons?

"I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He released her face and she stumbled back almost losing her balance. “You will pay for what you've done. The world can only fall into order through pain and you’re about to receive yours.”  
  


Larissa looked around herself, frantically trying to find something to hold onto but when she turned in search of Alex, he wasn't there behind the bars anymore. He had left.  
  


Brock approached the prisoner. He was still sitting hunched forward and staring ahead of himself. As if all the commotion in the room had never happened. As if he was in his own world, alone and none of the people in the room were actually there.

The far off look in his eyes caused her to question why she even had bothered getting herself into this mess in the first place.

Brock knelt down in front of him and quietly said something to him. It was so soft she couldn’t even hear his whisper.

Then the prisoner rose, slowly. His gaze dragged across the floor before it locked on Larissa. His eyes narrowed. A shiver went down her spine, his gaze chilling her to the bone.

Her breath was shallow and high in her chest. All she could hear was her heartbeat in her ears.

She couldn't fight her way out of this. Running was useless. She was being cornered like a wounded animal. She took a step backward, wishing the wall behind her would swallow her whole.

Within a blink of an eye, he had crossed the room. His cold metal fingers gripped her throat and pushed her backward, driving her into the wall.

The sound of her choking echoed in her own ears. She immediately reached up, grabbing onto his forearm, trying with all her strength to pull his hand away from her windpipe. She thrashed and fought against him, but her attempts were futile. He was too strong for her to budge.  
  


She gasped for air again with no prevail. Louder then the sounds of her struggle, she could hear the mechanical plates in his arm moving as he tightened his fingers.

Too tired to fight, her body gave in and when limp. Her lungs burned as her body continued to fight for air.

Black dots blurred her vision, changing his face into a pixelated mess.

In one last attempt to keep herself together, she tightened both her hands around his wrist, using him as something to anchor herself to the quickly fading reality.  
  


The last thing she felt before her world went dark was the cool metal beneath her fingertips.

After that, nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, shit just went down.
> 
> Don’t be like Larissa! Document the important things! (You know, stuff like evidence of involuntary brainwashing and such). 
> 
> But also don’t be like me. Half of the pics on my phone are screenshot’s that I made like “Oh I’ll just take a screenshot so I remember to watch that video later.” *Proceeds to never watch that video later and now has 5k screenshot’s on my phone*  
It’s an issue. Send help.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

“I know who he is, Brock. I saw a picture of him in the museum.”

Her words were muffled and distorted as if he was underwater. No matter how hard he kicked and sputtered he could not reach the surface for air.

All his body could do was sit there.

All his consciousness could do was shake while the soldier inside of him sat motionlessly, staring at the tiled floor. His insides were still reeling and disoriented from the wiping. It was hard to concentrate the little part of his consciousness that was left when it was threatened to be wiped out by the turmoil that was rushing throughout his body.

“He's not some criminal. He fought for the freedom of the world as we know it. He was willing to give his life for the freedom he believed in and now you are doing this to him.”

"I know your name." The words reached him as if they had been whispered.

She was talking to him. But he couldn’t understand. How could she claim to know him when he didn’t know himself.

_He didn’t exist outside of what they had made him into._

No matter how hard he struggled on the inside, the soldier did not move. He was powerless to the grip they had on his body and mind.

When his handler kneeled down in front of him, his glimpse of consciousness was squelched by a force so powerful he could do nothing to avoid it from taking him over completely. The turmoil settled, leaving an emptiness that the soldier had grown so accustomed to. It felt familiar even when everything around him was foreign.

“She is lying,” his handler rasped. “Teach her a lesson. Choke her out.”

**________________________________**

It was the throbbing in her skull that pulled her back to consciousness.

Larissa tried to open her eyes but her eyelids felt heavy. So heavy that she gave into their weight, floating somewhere between unconsciousness and being awake for just a moment longer. Her body melted into the peacefulness of not being in one place or another. If she let go a bit more, she would melt into the bed beneath her. Around her was silence and except for the far off sound of traffic. Just the warm glow of sleep.

In her daze she moved her hand, trying to pull the duvet a bit closer. Something stopped it. She pulled her hand in again, a bit harder this time, but again something hindered her movement.

The clank of metal against metal pierced her veil of silence.  
  


Her eyes shot open, her lungs gasping for air as she immediately began tugging, trying everything in her power to get away.  
  


It was no use. She was handcuffed to her own bed.

This was the result of her actions. This was the result of her caring. They were going to get rid of her now, she knew that for sure.  
  


Would they separate her from her mother? And from Alex?

Alex had to be thinking that she was stupid for letting this happen to her, even after his warning.

She felt crazy for wanting to help_ him_.

She wished she could beat her will to help _him_ and get to the truth out of her heart. It made her weak and vulnerable. It made her not think things through enough. Her will to do good and make things right overpowered her logic.

_This was the result of her weakness._

Tears blurred her sight. She let her body fall back onto her bed, accepting her fate. Her head began tot rob more sharply now that she let herself be aware of it.  
  


Her free hand slowly traveled up to her neck. It was sore. She could already imagine the bruising that was going to form there. The mark was going to be terrible. It already felt terrible.  
  


_How long had she been out?_  
  


Larissa’s eyes drifted to the corner of the room where her mother’s boxes had been.  
  


They were gone.

The corner looked so empty. As if nothing had ever been there in the first place.

Although it didn’t surprise her that they took them away, she still felt a wave of fear crash over her. The uncertainty and silence felt like _his_ cold hand constricting her airway all over again.

She curled in onto herself, pulling her knees closer to her chest.

Her muscles tightened, even more, when the door to her room swung open. She didn’t dare move until she saw that it was her mother who knelt down next to her bed.

Her mother was silent. With a cautious hand, she reached out and stroked Larissa’s hair from her face.

Larissa didn't dare look up at her. A sob escaped Larissa’s throat. Her body began to shake.

“It’s all right. You’re going to be okay.”

“It’s not mom,” she sobbed. “I just felt so bad for him. It got you in trouble. I’m sorry.”  
  


“Shh, it’s okay. You’re not made to be in a place like this. I’ve always known that. Your father knew it too. You feel for people. You are compassionate. And that makes you vulnerable in a place like this. I’m doing my best to get us out of here but SHIELD-.” Her mother's voice grew thick with emotion.

She gently stroked Larissa's arm. “Just stay strong. It’s almost over. It won’t be much longer until we’re free”  
  


Larissa used the corner of the duvet to dry up her tears. “When we’re free, we’re going to move into an apartment, in a normal building, on a normal street. Far away from this bullshit.”

Her mother laughed a little at that, but her eyes also became glassy. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short lil chapter for you guys. It didn’t fit right adding it onto the chapter before or the one after so I decided to post it like this. It’s just a lil buddy. 
> 
> I hope this update finds you in good health. Try to take care of your mental health along with your physical health. We may not have control over what is happening right now but we have control over how we react and what we feed our minds. 
> 
> Stay safe everyone!


	12. Chapter 12

Turns out that betraying a SHIELD superior's orders, resulted in being sentenced to the Triskelion filing room. Either that or her mother had made a deal with the devil to keep her from being sentenced to a worse punishment.

  
  


She'd heard the stories of what happened to others once they were 'exiled' from the base in Siberia. They were kicked out of the organization only to then to 'disappear' a few months or weeks later. That way of handling treason, as Brock had called her actions, sounded more realistic than the punishment she had gotten. By now she knew the way SHIELD liked to do things.

Never the less, working in the vast bleak archive was a dull as it sounded.

She was now responsible for searching the shelves when an agent requested a file alongside her digitalizing duties. Although snooping around the entire documentation of an intelligence agency didn’t sound that bad, there wasn't even the slightest possibility for that. She was supervised. At all times.

Although Ms. Beavers had some trouble walking, she had the eyes of a hawk and a bullshit meter like nothing Larissa had seen before. Having worked in the archives for over a decade it was safe to say she knew it like the back of her hand. Any missing documents would be noticed within no time. It was almost as if Ms. Beavers was one with the archive.

The agents that came in search of something always seemed a bit timid around the older woman. Despite her strictness and peculiar archive detective capabilities, she treated Larissa with the same respect Larissa showed her. Larissa was thankful for that.  
  


Besides, Larissa learned quickly that snooping around didn't make any sense. Most of the papers were old documents or boring letters and contracts that could be accessed even with a low clearance grade.

  
  


At the start of her exile to the Triskelion archives, she had promised herself to try to forget about what was happening at the bank. She didn't agree with it. The idea of what was happening, what her mother was participating in, still made her sick to her stomach. But if this was truly almost over she needed to wait it out. She hoped that by not seeing him she would be able to give it a place within herself.

Larissa’s attempt at forgetting about the fact that SHIELD was imprisoning and torturing a 90-year-old war hero lasted only a half a day into her new job at the Triskelion.  
  


Scanning old documents was one of those tasks that just caused a person’s mind to wander like a hyperactive puppy. And that was precisely Larissa’s problem. The more she told herself she needed to let it go, for her own safety as well as that of her mother, the more she thought about it. By the end of her third workday, a tornado of thoughts was spinning through her mind at any given moment.

She couldn't let this go.

Trying to forget about all this would eat her up from the inside out. She knew she had to do something, anything, but she was at a complete loss on what that was.

After saying goodbye to Ms. Beavers, who had started to insist upon Larissa calling her Ethel, Larissa grabbed her jacket and bag. She clocked out and made her way for the exit, fishing around her bag for her bike keys as she walked.

The main entrance hall was crawling with people, which seemed to be usual for the SHIELD headquarters. But somehow today seemed even busier than usual.

It was so busy in fact that she almost missed him.

  
As if it was a sign sent by God above, the one and only Steve Rogers was making his way towards the elevator. She almost choked on her own spit.

She stopped in her tracks. If there ever was a chance for her to make a difference and set things right, this was it. There wouldn’t be another opportunity like this again.

She pulled her jacket around herself, raking her brain as to what to do.  
  


Even though she didn't know him personally, Larissa was very sure he was a good person.  
  


He had to be. How else could she keep her faith in the morality of humanity alive? He would never do this to his friend. She had to believe that.  
  


She slowly started walking in his direction, her pace becoming more confident as she went on.  
  


The only idea she could think of had her cringing on the inside. _To hell with dignity!_  
  


As he continued walking towards the elevators, Larissa veered into his path, intercepting him and bumping up against him rather hard when her path crossed his.

He reached out to stop her from falling before she even realized that she had actually lost her balance.

“I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz.” She held her hands up, apologetically and took a step back. Her eyes went wide with surprise, pretending she was just then realizing whose arms she had stumbled into.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

“Oh God. You’re Steve Rogers,” she whispered, mustering up the all the awe she possibly could to pour out on her face.  
  


“Yeah. Hi. Nice to meet you.” He remained polite, hiding his haste with a kind smile but she saw the way his gaze flashed towards the elevator, preoccupied with where ever he was heading next.

She couldn’t blame him. She would find herself annoying too.

“Nice to meet you too!” she squealed.  
  


She mentally kicked herself, hating the way she was acting toward him but it did the trick. His gaze moved from the elevators back to her.

Larissa shuffled through the contents of her bag and pulled out a notebook and a pen. She held them out toward him.

“Can I have your autograph?” She asked suddenly overcome by a feeling of shyness that made her cheeks burn.  
  


“I kind of need to go. I have somewhere I need to be.” he said, glancing over her shoulder once again.  
  


She looked around her. With the number of people that were in the hall, it would be easy for someone to be following her. Still, she made the decision to drop the act.

Steve took a step back, visibly surprised at the sudden change in her demeanor.  
  


“I’m sorry to hold you up but it’s really important. Like really, really important.” Her heart was thumping in her chest. She started to feel panicked at the thought of him leaving before she could explain what was going on.  
  


She opened her notebook in a hurry, opening it to a random blank page and scribbled something down before turning it towards him. Her eyebrows creased with worry. “Could I please have an autograph?”  
  


He eyed her questioningly but took the book and the pen from her hands. His eyes widened when he read what Larissa had written.  
  


He looked at her, speechless. His eyebrows scrunched together in disbelief. “Do you have proof?”  
  


She could practically see the wheels turning in his mind.  
  


She nodded and nervously bit her lip before scanning the crowd around them again.  
  


Catching on to how alert she was, he looked around as well before writing something and closing the book.  
  


“Have a nice day ma’am.” He handed the notebook back to Larissa.  
  


His serious demeanor was causing her to question if the American icon actually believed her or if she had just gravely offended him.  
  


She did her best to play along, thanking him in the same overly enthusiastic voice she had used before and walked away. Her notebook was clammed tightly against her chest she rushed out to her bike.

As she flipped through the pages, trying to find back the one he’d written on a shock went through her body.  
  


She had just told him that his army friend, he thought was dead for years, was alive. The logical thing for him to do was not believe her and tell someone about the fact that some employee was acting like a crazy person. He could tell someone like his superior officer, for instance. And she would get busted, again.

She would be so fucked.

Her frantic fingers came to a halt as the black ink flashed by. She flipped back a few pages and opened the book further.

_‘Bucky is alive. I know where he is.’ _Her messy handwriting read.

_‘Tomorrow, Lincon memorial, 4 pm. I need proof.’ _He’d written below_. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * star-spangled booty has entered the chat *
> 
> Did anyone catch my parks and rec reference? Just me? Okay :P
> 
> DUUUUUDEEE 500 hits!!! Thank you all for reading and coming back when I update. Your kudos make my day!   
Also a big shout out to my number 1 commenter :) Your positivity and excitement makes me so happy.
> 
> Thank you all!


	13. Chapter 13

That night finding sleep was hard for Larissa. She had exhausted every possible outcome, good and bad, enough times to drive herself crazy.   
  


He wouldn’t agree to meet with her if he didn’t believe her,_ right?_ He would have to have some inkling of reason to believe his friend was still alive if he actually believed her.

Minutes seemed to take hours as she watched them tick by on her alarm clock. She did fall asleep eventually since it was that same alarm clock that woke her from her slumber the next morning.   
  


Even though she had just started a new job, she didn’t have to come in during weekends. Apparently, Ethel didn’t want to sacrifice her days off just because Brock wanted to punish Larissa.

It took her a lot of effort but she kept herself busy in her room until it was time for her to go meet Steve.

It was only a short bike ride to the national mall but the pit in her stomach grew larger the closer she got.   
  


She parked her bike near the steps and made quick work of chaining it to the nearby metal fencing. Her fingers trembled as she locked the chain. She peered up at the steep steps and felt dread spread through her body. Hopefully, it would be Steve waiting at the top and not Brock ready to 'arrest' her.

She started her ascent, sidestepping multiple times to weave her way around tourists that were enjoying the view from the steps of the Lincoln memorial.

She zipped open her backpack once she’d made it to the top of the steps, pulling out a manila folder. Its contents would be enough to convince Steve. _It had to be. _

Yesterday, she returned to the bank briefly to retrieve the USB stick she'd hidden in the ceiling tiles of the bathroom. She circled back several times, checking to make sure no one was following her before going into the library and using their computer and printer to assemble and print her proof.

She was painfully aware that by doing this today, she was changing her life.   
  


Today was the day she’d betray her mother.

She was betraying everything her parents had worked on for so long. She had not the slightest idea of what was to follow today. All there was left to do was pray that Steve would show up, not a SHIELD swat team.

She checked her watch for the too-many-th time. It was 4:10. He was late, _or not showing up. _

She began wandering around the memorial for a bit to calm her nerves. Her fingers threaded into her curls as she nervously contemplated what to do.

Her thoughts were flying a mile a minute. She walked up to the edge of the stairs again, looking out at the mall, surrounded by marveling tourists.

The manila folder was beginning to stick to her clammy palm. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

It was 4:25. Steve was no-show. She needed to head back.

A soft tap on her shoulder caused Larissa to jump. She let out a yelp of surprise and whirled around.

Instead of being met by the blue eyes she’d been expecting, she met a pair of brown ones. An African American man stood before her with a concerned expression on his face. “Ma'am, are you waiting here for Steve?”

Her anxiety formed a knot in her throat. _Could this man be a SHIELD operative? Had Brock sent him?_  
  


She took a deep breath before answering softly. “Yeah.”  
  


“Oh great, Steve sent me to pick you up. He apologizes for not coming personally but he wants to meet you somewhere else.”

“Where does he want to meet?” she asked, brows creasing in confusion.

"He's waiting in the car. I parked down the street-“

“Or you are taking me to a less public location so this doesn’t catch civilian attention,” she cut him off and took a step backward, needing to put space between them. “That sounds like an easy way for SHIELD to take me in without causing a scene.”

The man let out a small chuckle. “I can understand why you’d think that. Here, I'll call Steve if that makes you feel better.” He pulled out his phone and clicked on a contact. They picked up on the first ring.

"Hey. I found her. She wanted to talk to you to make sure that it’s you and that I'm not kidnapping her for SHIELD,” he chuckled. “She's right here. Let me give the phone to her.”

She accepted the phone from him hesitantly. “Hi?”

_“Hi. Sorry about this. I wanted to go meet you myself but some things happened. I had to send Sam out to find you.”_ She recognized Steve’s voice on the other side.

“It's okay. I guess I'll see you in a second.”

A voice of apprehension in her head warned her that he could be helping SHIELD to take her in. This was a risk she was going to have to take right now.

_“Okay, see you soon.”_   
  


She ended the call and handed the phone back to Sam, shooting him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I don’t want to seem paranoid but I don’t know who to trust right now. If my boss finds out I contacted Steve about this, I don’t know what he would do to me,” she shuddered.   
  


“I understand. Don’t feel bad about it.” He led the way to his car, which was parked alongside the road only a short walk away from the memorial.   
  


Once the black Chevrolet came into view and she saw Steve sitting in the passenger’s seat she felt she could relax a bit. It was just a normal-looking car. There were no jeeps or SUVs or cars with tinted windows in sight for SHIELD agents to be hiding in.

He believed her. Or at least was willing to hear her out.  
  


Sam opened the back door for her, making it easier for her to scoot into one of the seats.   
  


A redhead, who was already sitting in the back row, shot Larissa a small smile as Larissa set her backpack down by her feet.

Steve turned around and held out his hand for Larissa to shake. “Thanks for coming. Sorry about all of this.”

“It's fine." She shook her head, assuring him. "I'm Larissa by the way.”  
  


She didn't miss the way his eyes scanned over the bruises on her neck, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. She pulled her hoodie up closer and looked away.  
  


Sam got into the driver's seat and started up the car.

“Woah wait! Where are we going?” Larissa’s hands gripped the seat tightly. If she was gone for too long someone would know something was up.  
  


“We are multi-tasking,” Sam said from behind the steering wheel, as he pulled away from the curb.

Steve glanced back at her. “We're going to meet someone and we’re a bit short on time.”

“I can't be gone for too long. I don't want my boss to suspect anything.”  
  


“It's okay. We'll drop you off somewhere on the way back,” the red-haired woman reassured her, “In the meantime, do you have anything to back up that hefty claim you made yesterday?”

Larissa felt Steve’s bright blue eyes watching her through the rear-view mirror, wary but hopeful.

“Yeah,” she handed Steve the folder, “This is what I’ve got. There are a few pictures I took from the CCTV. There are some notes and the blueprint for his arm that I found. They were sent as a letter at some point. The date says it’s from 1947 and it has some Nazi dude’s signature on it. I think he approved of the ‘project’ they were planning on doing to your friend. There was a pretty good photograph from before they attached his prosthetic arm but I don’t have that anymore. I forgot to take a picture of it.”

When the other passengers of the car stayed silent she continued.

“Things weren’t sitting right with me for months but I only really started compiling evidence when I found out who he was.” Larissa pushed her hair out of her face. “I don’t know if you’ve been but they have his picture in the Smithsonian. In your exhibit, you know?”  
  


“Yeah, I’ve been.” Steve flipped open the folder.   
  


“It’s not much but...” Her voice faded into silence.  
  


Steve sighed. “It’s him.” He raked his hands through his hair.  
  


“How is that even possible?” The woman beside her asked, peeking over the seatback and Steve’s shoulder to have a look for herself.  
  


“I'm not completely sure,” Larissa started, “but I think I read that they had him in cryostasis for periods of time. My mom is one of the scientists. She's been working for SHIELD on this ‘project’ since before I was born. I read through some of her notes.”  
  


“And you are sure SHIELD's in on this?”

“Yeah, my boss had meetings at the Triskelion regularly. I actually was moved to work in the archives there. He wanted me out of the way.”   
  


“Who’s your boss?”   
  


"Brock Rumlow. He seems to be the one in charge of what happens to your friend.”  
  


Steve let out an audible sigh.

“Brock always told me he was a prisoner but the way they treat him is downright awful. They keep him in isolation when they're not brainwashing him into doing their dirty work. I cannot watch what is happening and not do anything about it. But I don't know what else to do,” Larissa murmured. “When I walked up to you yesterday I was acting on an impulse but I don't know if I can go back to pretending nothing is wrong.”

“Well if all goes well you might not have to.” The woman beside her said with a small smile.   
  


Sam parked the car along a curb in a quiet street somewhere near downtown Washington  
  


Larissa watched with wide eyes how the redhead attached a sight to the rifle that she pulled out of a duffle bag by her feet. She looked over at Larissa but said nothing of her watching.   
  


After zipping her gun back into the bag, she patted Steve’s seatback in front of her. “It’s time to go, boys.”  
  


Both she and Sam got out but as Steve was about to open his door, Sam ducked down, sticking his head back into the car. “Stay with her, man. Bring her up to speed. We got this.”  
  


Larissa turned and watched the duo turn the corner at the end of the street.  
  


“It’s okay,” Steve reassured her. “Natasha may look intimidating but she’s not going to kill anyone." His voice lowered into a mumble, "at least I hope not.”  
  


“I’m not quite sure that I find that comforting.”  
  


“Touché.” He chuckled.

He quieted for a moment before he asked the question Larissa had known was coming. “That’s one hell of a bruise you’ve got there. Are you alright?”

“It’s nothing,” she answered quickly, hoping that he couldn’t tell how she cringed inwardly. She had been trying her best to cover the bruising up with make-up, but it still peeked through. She pulled her hoodie up a little more, trying to hide it from his watchful eyes.  
  


Instead of going into further detail, she changed the subject, sitting up a bit straighter in her seat and looking Steve in the eyes. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? I’ve been trying to figure this whole thing out for months. When I mentioned Brock it seemed like you knew more.”

Steve nodded but looked away, searching for words. “It’s bigger than you think it is. Hydra has been festering inside SHIELD. Multiple agents have been corrupted. Brock Rumlow. Presumably even Alexander Pierce, since he permitted missile attack on our location after we found out about this yesterday.”

  
“Holy fuck,” Larissa breathed, “All my life I’ve been working for a freaking Nazi terrorist organization that attempted world domination?!”

“Well, we think they’re still working on that. They plan to launch 3 helicarriers tomorrow, Project Insight. We need some more information before we try to shut it down. Based on your reaction I don’t suppose you know anything that could help us.” He looked at her hopefully.

Her mind was searching for answers, for ways to explain that all this wasn’t true but she couldn’t wrap her mind around it

Larissa shook her head, stunned. “They’ve never talked about any other SHIELD operations when I was around. It’s all about ‘containing the asset’ and missions back at the bank SHIELD has us living in.”

Her eyes narrowed as she continued to try to piece things together. “I thought Hydra was eradicated after the war?”

“You and me both. Natasha and I only really found out about all of this yesterday. SHIELD has been compromised. There’s no way of knowing which or how many agents have been corrupted.”

“But my parents, my mom, all my life they’ve worked for SHIELD. They aren’t bad people.” She covered her face with her hands. Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. “How is this happening?”

In her mind, it didn't add up. This wasn’t possible. Her mom was caught up in SHIELD but knowingly working for HYDRA? Maybe her mother wasn't who Larissa though she was.

“It’s a hard thing to understand. We’re doing the best we can to stop them.”

“Oh my god.” She moved her hands away from her eyes. “You went down in that plane to stop them. And now they’re back like they’ve never been gone.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, it’s been a pretty crappy 24 hours.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“The best thing you can do is to try to get out of the city once we drop you off. Go somewhere safe, outside of Washington.”

“Brock will know something is up if I try to leave. He doesn’t like me. He’s scared that I would do the exact thing I’m doing right now. The only reason he hasn’t made me ‘disappear’ is because of my mother. And maybe the fact that I’m close friends with his brother.”

She gasped realizing that even her best friend could be in on all of this. It hit her like a ton of bricks.

“Oh my god, Alex.” She hunched forward. Her breath felt constricted in her lungs as tears fell onto her cheeks. Her heart broke at even the idea of it. He couldn’t be knowingly working for them. He just couldn’t “This is so messed up.” She slumped back in the chair. “I think I’m having an existential crisis.”  
  


“Hey, look at me.”  
  


She reluctantly blinked her eyes open, feeling like a wuss for crying in front of him.  
  


“You’re going to be okay. You’re doing the right thing here. I will make sure someone will come and get you. I’ll even do it myself if I can. But first, you need to try to stay calm. Try not to give Brock any reason to suspect anything.”

She dried her cheeks with her sleeve before wiping her eyes. “I’ll try.”  
  


“Do you feel okay with hanging in there until this is over? I don’t want to leave you somewhere where you feel you run the chance of getting hurt again.”  
  


She nodded and took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions at bay. “By the sound of it, there is a big chance Brock will be too preoccupied with stopping you to deal with me. I’ll be okay.”

Steve sent her a tight-lipped smile but it fell from his face when he began searching for words.

“Bucky,” he began, “does he-“

The car door opened, caused her to jump. A bald man scooted into the seat on her left.

“Wow, why doesn't it surprise me that you're a part of this, Steve?” He grumbled as he closed the door.

Larissa crossed her arms over her chest and leaned away, not feeling comfortable about being so close to a stranger. He was giving off bad vibes.

“Good afternoon to you too, Sitwell,” Steve remarked from the front seat.

It seemed that the question he had wanted to ask needed to be saved for another time.

Natasha opened the trunk. Her duffel bag clunked against the carpet.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sam remarked as he got into the driver’s seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit is about to go down, let me tell you.
> 
> To anyone who’s sitting at home with nothing to do due to the current circumstances, Camp NaNoWriMo is a writing event that is going on in the month of April. Nanowrimo is what motivated me to start writing this story in the first place. Feel free to check it out. It’s a fun way to start getting some words on paper and meet some people who are doing the same.


	14. Chapter 14

Everyone was silent as they drove through part of the city that was less busy. Once the car was parked, Sam, Steve, and Natasha got out.

Larissa watched curiously how Natasha pulled Sitwell out of his seat with ease. She pulled him into the apartment building that they were parked next to.

Steve, who hadn't closed his door, stuck his head back into the car. “Stay here. We're going to get the information we need and then we'll bring you back home,” he said with a reassuring smile. "We'll be back in a bit." He closed the car door shut and followed Natasha.  
  


Larissa turned in her seat to peak over the seat back into the truck, wanting to see what Sam was doing.

Sam unzipped a bag and pulled out a pair of goggles. "Nothing sexier than a pair of goggles, am I right?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She sent him a small smile.

Sam strapped himself into a backpack. An impressive set of wings extended out of it, turning it into a bird suit of sorts, before he flew off. The wings had taken her by surprise, but she guessed it was to be expected Captain America knew some very special people.   
  


It was only a few minutes later that they returned to the car. Steve had a tight grip on Sitwell’s arm, pulling him along. Sitwell didn’t seem to be psychically injured although his face was as white as a sheet.

She bit her tongue deciding against asking questions about what had happened while they were gone.   
  


Within a few turns, they were back on the highway heading in the direction of the bank. Sam had agreed to drop her off a few blocks away to avoid suspicion. She’d have to go pick up her bike later.

The idea of going back and acting as if nothing was wrong was starting to make her fidgety. She’d spent her whole life living in compounds, learning from and working for HYDRA who, according to the information they got out of Sitwell, was launching Insight to eliminate everyone who formed a threat against them.

Even though she wasn’t as big of a threat to them as let's say…Steve Rogers, it was safe to say she was going to end up on the list if it was up to Brock. She better pray to god that they were able to find a way to stop it.

In the meantime, all she could do was make sure that HYDRA didn’t find out she had done.

“HYDRA doesn’t like leaks.” Sitwell seethed from next to Larissa in the back seat. She could practically see the steaming anger coming from his ears in the form of smoke.  
  


“Then why don’t you stick a cork in it?” Sam said without looking away from the road.

Natasha, who had been acting increasingly restless, slid forward in her seat. “Insights launching in 16 hours. We’re cutting it a little bit close here”

Steve looked back. “I know. We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the Helicarriers directly.”

“What? Are you crazy?” Sitwell protested, “That’s a terrible, terrible idea-“  
  


A heavy thud on the roof made Sitwell go quiet and caused Larissa to jump.

Before she could even process what was happening, the window shattered and Sitwell was pulled from his seat beside her. His scream was drowned out by the sound of a passing semi-truck. It left her ears ringing.

Her immediate reaction was to protect her face with her arms and bend forward, shielding her face from another potential cascade of glass and making herself as small as possible.

She yelped when Natasha shoved her, sending her body crashing into the place Sitwell had just been moments ago. Her seatbelt was pulled taught, not easing to accommodate her sudden jerk to the left.

A gunshot burst through the roof, lodging itself in Natasha’s seat just as Natasha dove forward onto Steve’s lap.   
  


Two more bullets echoed through the car before Steve pulled on the emergency brake, sending Larissa crashing into the driver’s seat in front of her. Whoever was on the roof went flying off.

Larissa pushed herself upright against the seatback, her head pounding from the impact. She blinked her eyes closed, rubbing the back of her neck as she made a mental note to Google the symptoms of whiplash later. _That is, if they made it out of here._

At the sound of Natasha loading her gun, Larissa opened her eyes again.

With her arms stretched straight ahead, Natasha aimed at the highway in front of the car.

Just as Larissa was moving back to the middle seat to see what was going on, a crash sounded behind her. Glass showered over her back as her body was flung forward again. With her palm against the seatback, she was able to stop herself from face-planting.

As soon as she was able to stabilize herself, she wiped her head around to come face to face with the grill of a car.

They were being pushed over the highway. Someone was trying to kill them. “Holy fuck.”**  
  
**

With another thud on the roof, the last bit of glass from the back window to crash over her.

Their tires screeched over asphalt. Larissa could already smell the scent of burnt rubber sting at her nose.

The moment she saw the metal arm punch through the front window and rip the steering wheel out of the car, her suspicions were confirmed. Dread filled her. They were so fucked.

Brock, Pierce or whoever was running this crazy operation, had sent the Winter Soldier. The Asset. The weapon of HYDRA. And he was on a mission to kill them. The fact that somehow Larissa had found her way into the vehicle they were hell-bent on crashing wouldn’t matter.

Killing 4 traitors of the cause with one metal fist sounded pretty efficient after all.

Natasha tried to shoot him through the roof but he jumped onto the hood of the car behind them, out of her range.

If he was as ruthless as Alex had made him out to be, there was no hope for them now. He would have been wiped, no possibility of remembering her, and would stop at nothing to complete his mission.

Her vision went blurry. She was going to die while betraying her mother. She prayed he'd make it fast and as painless as possible.

With a bump from the car pursuing them, their car began swerving over the highway. Her body hung in the seatbelt when the car rammed into the highway divider, leaning dangerously to the one side, as two of the wheels lost contact with the road.

The next collision with the divider had them airborne.

Through the chaos Steve yelling was all she heard before they fell away, leaving her, alone, in the back seat.

Gravity was absent when the car toppled over. Glass floated around her. The world was silent but her breath was loud, echoing through her senses. The bright bursts of sunlight that flashed as the car rolled made her close her eyes.

This was how she was going to die, Larissa thought to herself. And somehow at that moment, she experienced a feeling of peace in the vast nothingness that she felt was floating in.

The car jolted sharply in a different direction.

An audible crack pulled Larissa back into reality. A sharp pain erupted from her left shoulder as a wall of sound flooded her ears.

She screamed, partially in pain and partially in panic at the sudden loss of control she felt over the situation.   
  


Moments ago, she had accepted that that loss of control was inevitable, but the moment the outside world rammed against her again she couldn’t help but panic.

Metal scraped against concrete as the car skidded to a stop.

She gasped for air as her eyes tried to focus on the space around her. Her cheeks felt hot as a dull throb of a headache spread over the back of her skull. Her body hung upside down by the seatbelt. She needed to get out of there before her panicked breathing pulled her into unconsciousness.

Black dots danced before her eyes as Larissa tried to reach for her seatbelt with her left hand. Even the smallest movement caused pain to sear through her arm. She wiggled around until she felt the buckle under her right fingertips.

Gravity pulled her down causing her to land on her head and neck.

Her throbbing head only got worse as she pulled herself to the car window. The loose glass pierced the skin of her palm as she pushed onward.

A loud boom reverberated off of the asphalt, scaring Larissa enough to make he flattened herself against the pavement. She was dragging herself out of the carcass of a car and into what seemed to be a full-on gunfight. She slumped beside the car, hoping that she was out of range for the bullets. She needed to slow her breathing. Her body was aching to rest for a second.

She took that moment to look around noticing Natasha's scarlet hair was just visible from Larissa’s line of sight. Natasha seemed to be shooting at people behind the car Larissa was hiding behind.

Larissa cursed under her breath. She had to get out of here, preferably before any of the HYDRA assailants recognized her.

While grunting and groaning she scooted forward, cradling her left arm against her ribcage as she crawled to the concrete barrier that separated the two sides of the highway.

A second explosion went off somewhere nearby. Larissa looked over her shoulder again to see Natasha jumping over the side of the overpass.

** **

“How did you get here?”

The familiar voice made her turn her head back in the direction of the highway barrier. Her eyes trailed up over the black-clad figure to be met the sympathetic face of Brian.

Her eyes flitted to the figure hovering behind him. The Winter Soldier. _James Bucky Barnes. _The mask muzzling his lower face, made him look feral.   
  


To Larissa, it felt as if his eyes were looking right through her. If it weren’t for the damaged goggles that slipped from his hand onto the road she would believe he was a phantom.

She had just witnessed him throw a man into oncoming traffic. She had no idea where Steve, Natasha or Sam were. But _he_ was here, looking at her and making no attempt to murder her with the array of weapons she could see he had on him.

If his mission was to kill the passengers of the car she was just in, why wasn't he going after her now? Brian wasn't strong enough to stop him if he wanted to do so. _Why wasn't he trying to kill her?_  
  


Brain knelt in front of her. His mouth was moving but his words did not reach her.

Her mind was reeling. The drumming pain behind her eyes made it hard for her to think.

“What?” she asked, her breathless voice made it sound more like a hoarse whisper.  
  


“Brock has been looking for you all day! Why are you here?” Brian reached out his hand to help her up. He flinched back, only then seeing her bloodied hands and her arm that she held close. “Oh my god. Are you okay?”

Brian had always been naïve but this was an all-time low. How could he not see that she was bloody because she had pulled herself from the wreck he and his team had caused?

She almost felt bad for him until she remembered that the reason he was there was to kill Steve, Natasha, and Sam.

Out of nowhere, Brian was jerked backward. With a grunt, Sam shoved Brian away from her.

Brian landed a few meters away, skitting to a stop against the railing of the overpass. He scrambled to his feet, keeping his now accusing gaze on her. His fingers fumbled with the zip line rope attachment on his belt before he climbed over the edge and disappeared from view.

The prisoner, who had been standing behind Brian before Brian had bent down to tend to her, was gone. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air.

_Maybe he really was a phantom._

“Shit. Are you okay?” Sam helped Larissa turn onto her back. “Just stay here. I'll cover you.”  
  


He ran to the edge of the overpass and shot at the HYDRA agents below. Larissa couldn’t help but feel bad for Brian, who was most definitely caught in the crossfire.

Looking around herself, she realized that all the HYDRA agents had cleared out. The road was void of humans, except for Sam who was shooting from his vantage point a few meters away.

They had all left, agents and civilians alike. The overpass was now a quiet mess of abandoned cars. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm went off.

Her legs shook when she got up onto her feet but she managed to keep her balance. She waited for the dots to clear before she moved any farther.

Sam couldn’t stay up here with her while Steve and Natasha were god knows where. They were heavily outnumbered and needed all the help they could get if they wanted to make it to the helicarriers on time. Especially since HYDRA was using their brainwashed prisoner to their advantage.

“What are you doing? I told you to stay put.” Sam shouted from the other side of the road, still occupied by the commotion happening below him.

“You have your bird suit back here, right?”

“It’s not a bird suit!”

The back of the car was pretty heavily damaged but she managed to pull out the backpack Sam had worn earlier that afternoon.

Sam jogged over to her, looking over her shoulder at the backpack.

“Is it damaged?” She couldn’t imagine it would be able to survive being smashed by a car but somehow it looked okay, give or take a few scratches.

Sam inspected it. His finger traced over a particularly noticeable dent carefully. “Nah, it looks fine.”

“Well suit up. You're of more use down there then you are up here with me.”

He worriedly looked at her shoulder but gave her a curt nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It definitely is a bird suit ;P
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you all are well.


	15. Chapter 15

“Bucky?” the man asked breathlessly.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

**________________________________**

Before Sam flew off into the fray, which seemed to be moving away from the bridge, he insisted on helping Larissa down from the overpass. And by helping he meant flying.

In the most careful way possible he picked her up, supporting her under her knees and her upper back.  
  


Even though his hand that supported her back wasn’t too close to her shoulder, the pain radiated from it. She was full-on panting with her eyes squeezed shut by the time he lowered her to the ground against a pillar under the overpass.  
  


When she didn’t hear him move she peered through her eyelashes.  
  


He was still there, looking at her like she was a wounded puppy.  
  


“Go. I’ll be fine.”  
  


“I’m not too fond of leaving the wounded behind.”

“They need you more than I do,” she reassured him.  
  


When an explosion went off in the distance, she furrowed her eyebrow, praying that no civilians were dragged into this mess.

She set her jaw and nodded at Sam, hoping to ease the concerned look in his eyes. “Go kick some HYDRA ass.”

He let out a sigh before he saluted and flew off.

With that, the waiting game began. All she could do was sit and listen as gunshots went off a few blocks away.  
  


Even with the pain searing from her collarbone, she couldn't get her mind off of what was going on and how on earth she was going to get herself out of this.

_He_ was there. _He_ had seen her. Other SHIELD agents had to have seen her. Did Brock know she was here already? If not, it would only be a matter of time.

While sitting there alone, Larissa tried to think of ways she could explain what she had been doing there in the first place. _“I was hitchhiking.” “I swear to god they came out of nowhere and kidnapped me!” “So, I was taking an uber home when….”_

She blew out a big puff of air, in exasperation. It was no use, she was a terrible liar. Brock would see right through her. She was fucked.  
  


Something exploded a few blocks away and the sound of the first sirens followed soon after. She hoped they all were okay. She hoped _he_ was okay. With all her heart she didn’t want anyone to die today.

  
Larissa wondered if he still had the photograph or if he even remembered that he still had it. Brock could have found it and taken it from him. And if they had wiped him, he surely wouldn’t remember that she had given it to him.

The sound of footsteps coming closer moved her back to reality. She sucked in a breath and pulled her knees closer to her chest, making herself as small as possible behind the pillar. There was no way to know if these were the good or the bad guys back to get her.  
  


The sound of a walkie talkie gave away that they were closer then she had anticipated.  
  


Two men, both in full combat gear, rounded the pillar, one on either side. Without a second of doubt, the one shoved his gun against her head. She flinched away.  
  


“Larissa Belmonte, Put your hands behind your head,” he snarled, his voice muffled as his face was being protected by a helmet.  
  


She could see his eyes. She didn’t recognize them. He definitely wasn’t part of the bank staff.  
  


“I was in a car crash and I think my collarbone is broken. I can't move my left arm.” Her voice shook just as much as her right hand did when she placed it behind her head.  
  


The man didn’t respond and dragged her up to her feet by her right arm. She was unceremoniously pulled to walk between the two men.  
  


The other guard, now walking on her left, had held back when his partner had approached her. Now that they were moving she looked over at him, hoping to find the eyes of someone she knew so she could plead for her release.  
  


When he ducked his head away from her, she narrowed her eyes, refusing to look away. His shoulders dropped with a sigh before he slowly turned to look at her.  
  


When they made eye contact, her heart sank.

Striding on Larissa’s left was Alex. He focused his gaze ahead when she let out an involuntary sob.  
  


“How- Why are you here?” She was full-on ugly crying now. She didn't want to accept the fact that there was even a chance that Alex knew of HYDRA's plans. It was becoming harder with every step she took.  
  


“It's my job. I'm doing my job,” he spoke firmly without looking at her.  
  


“Do you know about what is going on? Do you know what they are planning to do? HYDRA-”  
  


“Larissa, I-"  
  


The guy on her right yanked Larissa’s arm forward. “Shut up! Both of you!” He pulled her to walk faster.  
  


Her best friend was part of an ex-Nazi terrorist group that was hell-bent on world domination. She couldn’t find a reason why Alex, of all people, would do that knowingly.  
  


Because he did know. He was acting too ashamed to not know what was HYDRA's plans were.  
  


Larissa’s eyes couldn't focus on her surroundings as she was being pulled forward. The world around her was foggy, blurred like a dream.

The guard stopped abruptly.

“Wow Larissa!” At Brock's mocking tone, she blinked the tears from her eyes. “You're here too. Why am I not surprised?”  
  


His fiery gaze forced her to make eye contact with him. “I thought that the other night would have scared you enough to drop this.” He raised his hand, moving his calloused fingers over a cut in her cheek. It stung. She closed her eyes and refused to respond to his harassment. "I guess not.”  
  


“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into," he continued, now mumbling under his breath." How can someone so naive be so destructive?”

At the sound of some commotion, he retracted his hand and stepped back, looking over his shoulder.

Now that he had taken a step back, she could see where they were and why they had stopped.

In the middle of the street, a brigade of agents stood in a semi-circle. Steve, Natasha, and Sam were forced on their knees in the middle.

Jack held the muzzle of his gun to Steve’s temple. Brock sprinted over and pushed Jack away from Steve.

“Rollins, not here.” He pointed up at the news helicopters that were circling like vultures.

Upon Brock’s command, agents started loading Steve, Natasha, and Sam into a van. Steve's eyes met hers before he was pushed into the van.

“Brock,” Alex spoke up from beside her, “What do I do with her?”  
  


Brock glanced back at Larissa. She didn’t miss the way a smirk toyed at the corner of his lips. “Bring her back to the bank. I have something planned for her.”

Alex guided her into one of the black SUVs, being significantly less harsh then he was earlier when the other agent was with them. He didn’t make any attempts to explain himself and Larissa couldn’t even look at him without wanting to hurl.

In the van on the way back to the bank, a medic checked out her throbbing shoulder, confirming that Larissa’s collarbone was likely broken. A clean break, that would heal in time. Despite Larissa’s pleas to take her to a hospital for an X-ray, the medic refused. He mumbled something about his orders and that he would get her a sling as soon as they were back at the bank.  
  


The rest of the ride Larissa was quiet as the medic cleaned the blood off of her face and hands with a wet cloth and disinfected her cuts.

Despite feeling like she had been run over by a semi-truck, she knew that her physical ailments would heal with time. The mental anguish she felt, on the other hand, would take a far longer healing process.  
  


Back at the bank, after she had been provided a sling, she was dragged down the far too familiar the stairs to the basement.

Larissa did her best to keep up but the guard had a tight grip on her arm and was obviously in a hurry.

Upon entering the safe box room, she wondered if her mother had heard about what she had done yet. Her mother wasn’t in the lab even though most of the devices were on, lights still flickering as if everyone left in a hurry.  
  


Alex, who had gotten there before they had, stood waiting by the door to the hall in the back of the room.

  
“Where does Rumlow want her?” the guard asked.

“In the asset’s holding cell. I’ll take her from here.”

The guard shrugged and pushed Larissa forward to Alex. She stumbled into his chest. He immediately took a step back and grabbed hold of her good arm and lead her into the hallway.

“Alex,” the words died in her throat. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.

How was this real? How could he have truly known all along and pretend nothing was wrong?

He ignored her and opened the cell door. “Sit," he commanded pointing to the bed. A pair of handcuffs were unclipped from his belt.  
  


“You’re fucking kidding me. You're not only locking me in a safe, but you're also handcuffing me to the bed?”

“I have orders.”

“Your orders are bullshit! Do you know how many people are going to die when they launch those things tomorrow? Do you?”  
  


He didn’t answer.  
  


“Every single one of their deaths is going to be on you because you are here listening to ‘your orders’ while you know that this isn’t right. How can you participate in this?”

Alex had always been the most talkative person she knew. In class, he would get in trouble with the teacher because he couldn’t stop whispering in her ear and giggling. On their first day of physical training at the base, the instructor had punished him with running extra laps because Alex could stop laughing about the man’s mustache.

He always had something to say. He always knew how to cheer her up. But now he was as silent as a grave.

“Who even are you?” Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. “I knew you. I know you. You’re my best friend and I know for a fact that he would never take part in something like this.”

“Maybe I grew up and realized what I need to do to become anyone in this world,” he said gravely.  
  


“I refuse to believe that that is what you actually think.” Larissa shook her head. “What does Brock have on you, Alex?”  
  


Her question was, yet again, met with silence.  
  


“We could leave now.” The fact that she was desperate enough to say this shocked Larissa but she couldn’t let her friend do this with his life. “Just like we always talked about growing up. You had the wildest ideas of ways to escape and places to go. I was the one holding you back,” she swallowed hard, “But I’d leave with you if it meant helping you get out of this mess.”  
  


A sad smile flashed over his face but it disappeared as soon as it came. He stepped closer to her and gently took her wrist in his hand and lead her to the cot.  
  


She didn’t fight him. She couldn’t fight him.

The cool metal tingled against her skin. Her eyes welled up with tears as her heart broke.

  
“Don't leave me here,” her voice quivered, “I need you.”

Wordlessly he fastened the other side of the cuff to the metal cot. He quickly stood up, wiping his face roughly with his hands, and walked to the cell door. He turned and looked at her, face void of emotion, and then stepped out and shut the door with a loud cluck.

The gears in the safe door moved into place locking her away from the world and leaving her in complete silence. Larissa pulled her knees into her chest and cried.

**________________________________** ****  
  


The sting of a slap to his cheek pulled him out of the fuzzy haze he was in. He knew they didn’t like this but he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to know. “That man on the bridge. Who was he?”

“You met him earlier this week on another assignment.”

“I knew him.” He was grasping at memories that were too far away from him to reach. But that face, that man on the bridge, he knew him. He knew him from _before._

The man sat down. “Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century and I need you to do it, one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we’re going to give it a push. But if you don’t do your part I can’t do mine. And HYDRA can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.”

Something in him broke as he tried to make sense. “But I knew him.”

The man sighed and stood up, addressing one of the scientists in the room. “Prep him.”

“But he’s been out of cryo freeze for too long.”

“Then wipe him and start over again”

With all his might he tried to hold onto what he felt and what he knew, but with each pulse of electricity, he felt himself being pushed under again. It was impossible to keep a hold on himself when he was being drowned in a sea of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Stay safe and have a nice day! :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: The trigger warning is for rape/sexual assault. It is not described explicitly. 
> 
> Please, know your limits and take care of yourself. Your mental wellbeing is important!

Larissa woke, hours later, with her hair mussed in her face and her eyes sore from crying. Somehow she had managed to fallen asleep, curled in on herself on the cot. Her right arm was in an unbearable angle due to the cuff and her other throbbed in pain that started at her collarbone. It surprised her that she even was able to fall asleep in this state.

It had been the churning sound made the walls around her vibrate that had woken her.  
  


When she finally made sense of what was happening, she pushed herself to sit despite the way her muscles protested, scooting as far back into the corner as she could.  
  


Someone was opening the safe.  
  


The heavy door swung open, creaking on its hinges. The air in the room seemed to be sucked outwards into the hallway beyond. The sounds of voices carried down the hall from the lockbox room.  
  


Brock Rumlow stood in the opening, unmoving except for the clenching and unclenching of his fist. His face was dark with anger and by the looks of it, he was ready to take that anger out on anything near him.  
  


She blinked at him, not daring to move from her cowering position in the corner.

“They got away.”  
  


A gasping exhale left her lungs.

_Steve, Sam, and Natasha._ If they had gotten away there still was a chance for them to stop this and make things right.

“I figured I’d let you know, so you’d know what you’ve cost me. Because everything that has gone wrong, is because of you. Pierce is pissed at me, the asset is questioning orders, my brother locked himself in the bathroom. It's your fault.”  
  


She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering the energy inside her to use her voice. “Don’t blame me for the results of the injustice you have been creating since before I got here.”

Her words were soft. She almost questioned if he heard until he lunged forward with a face wild with rage. He was on top of her trapping her body beneath his.His hand clamped down on her already bruised jaw and pushed her head backward, causing it to knock against the wall.

  
His face was close to hers. In his eyes, she found more venom than she thought to be possible.

“I will break you,” he spat.

She believed him. He would break her.

She had read once that sometimes the brain takes traumatic events and puts them into a box and locks them away. A safety-deposit box of sorts. It keeps the trauma far away in the darkness of the mind until the memories are triggered and the box is opened again, causing the memories to flood back in like a tidal wave. _The brain does this to protect you,_ the article had said. _It's an instinct. Your brain blanks that experience out because it would do anything to take some of the pain away and help you survive. _  
  


Larissa didn't know if she could believe that to be true. She had never wanted to die more than in that moment, chained to a bed in a cell with a man holding her down so he could have his way with her.

So much so that she stopped fighting.  
  


Her body was completely numb. She stared up at the ceiling and wished for death to take her. Dying would be better than having to live with this.  
  


Everything was a blur. She was there but she wasn’t.  
  


She didn’t remember that it was Jack who finally came in and pulled Brock off of her. “_What the fuck Rumlow. You’re going to kill her!” _

She didn’t remember them leaving.

She felt nothing.

But, after he was gone, her senses started to come back to her slowly.

  
She started to feel the way her face throbbed and cheeks stung from crying. The way her throat felt scratchy from screaming for him to stop. The way her whole body felt sore.

But most of all, she felt the emptiness inside her, like there was nothing more to live for.  
  


Because Hydra had won.  
  


Brock had won.

She wasn’t aware of time as she lay there in the safe. It felt like time had ceased to exist. Like the world around her, all of the people, the entire city, had just floated away, leaving her locked in a box. Like a coffin buried in the ground.

She just lay there.

It was quiet. So quiet.

The sound of the gears turning in the door broke that eerie silence.

Her heartbeat accelerated, pounded in her throat, in her face, in her shoulder. It skyrocketed and left her struggling for breath. Her chest heaved under the weight. The fear and adrenaline that bubbled up in her, pushing her to protect herself in a way she never knew was possible.  
  


_Brock was back and he wouldn’t just leave her here this time._

The door swung open, sucking the air out of the cell once more. The pit in her stomach churned at the thought of his hands on her body again. She pushed herself onto her side and threw the contents of her stomach up onto the floor.

As she heaved, nothing more coming out of her empty stomach, she turned her head, dreading the sight of her assaulter in the doorway.  
  


Instead of Brock in the doorway, it was _him._


	17. Chapter 17

_His _gaze was piercing as he took her in, pathetic as she felt she was, dry heaving on her side.

She pushed herself to sit and cowered backward when he slowly took a step over the threshold into the room.  
  


“Stop.” Her voice was raspy and it hurt to speak. Her whole body shook. "What- Why are you here?"  
  


“I’m not here to hurt you," his gruff voice spoke lowly, barely above a whisper.  
  


She didn’t move, and neither did he.  
  


This had to be some type of trick. Some fucked up way to try to win her trust and make it easier for them to deal with her. Hydra had just sent him to finish what Brock had started.

With a shivering hand, she pulled the blanket that was messily sprawled over her closer, wishing she could disappear under it. With his gaze on her, it felt like he could see into her very soul. It felt like he could see how Brock had ripped part of it out of her body and left her there empty and bleeding. She didn’t want to be seen like this by anyone.  
  


“They’re dead. It’s done”

Her eyebrows lowered, and she could already feel the pinpricks of tears in her eyes. Did he mean the thousands of targets Hydra planned on eliminating? Her mother? Steve? Natasha? Sam?

“Hydra is over,” he clarified.

She a gasp of relief escaped from her lips. The tears still managed to spill over onto her raw cheeks. She tried to slow the adrenaline that was coursing through her veins with a shaky breath. She needed to think clearly about what all this meant.

  
Had Steve really been able to do it? Was Hydra really over?  
  


She narrowed her eyes, stretching her neck to the right, trying to look past him into the dark hall.  
  


As far as she could see, the lockbox room was empty. If no one was here to order him to do this, and he said he wasn’t here to hurt her, did that meant he had come on his own accord?

“Did someone send you?”  
  


“No."  
  


"Then why are you here?"  
  


He was still for a moment before answering "I need you to take me to the museum.”

Her eyebrows creased together wondering if she had heard him correctly. “The museum?”

“You said that you knew who I was, that you saw it in a museum. I need to go there.”  
  


How could he have remembered that? They had wiped him since then. The handcuff clanked against the bed when she ran her hand over her face trying to make sense of everything and failing.

“Is anyone here?” she whispered through her fingers.

  
“No”

“Are you going to kill me?” The question felt stupid the moment the words left her lips. If he was here to kill her, he would have done it by now. He wouldn’t stop to talk to her.

He was silent for a moment, face void of emotion, which made her extremely uneasy, but the answer that followed was firm. “No”

Slowly she maneuvered herself to sit with her bare feet planted on the ground. She turned her head away from the vomit on the floor. Just thinking about it was making her feel nauseous.

She pulled the blanket over her shoulders and held it closed in front of herself in her fist of her injured arm. It made tears well up in her eyes to think of the state that her clothes might have been left in. She didn’t have the strength to find out right now.  
  


She looked at him, where he was standing in the threshold of the vault.

“They- He-,” She took a deep breath, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m cuffed to the bed.” The metal jingled when she moved her right wrist slightly.  
  


His face stayed emotionless, he said nothing, but slowly he took a step into the room and then another.  
  


As he stood before her she could feel her body begin to tremble again.

He slowly sunk down to his knees and reached out, touching the cuff with his metal fingers.

She felt like she was suffocating, feeling too cornered, too vulnerable and weak. And he was close, way too close. The feeling of his fingers closing off her air supply was too fresh in her mind. She pressed her eyes closed.

When the metal crunched under the pressure of his fingers, her cuff got tighter before it opened and released her wrist.

He was standing at a respectable distance in the doorway when she opened her eyes again.  
  


Her legs shook as she struggled to stand up. Her body was sore from head to toe. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on not falling over immediately. Her body was shaking but with a few deep breathes she felt confident enough that she would be able to support herself.

Her eyes flicked up to him still standing in the doorframe a few steps away.  
  


She took a small step forward and then another, her mind pushing her to overcome the shakiness of her body. He mirrored her movements stepping backward slowly, all the time facing towards her, watching her as she powered on.

She stepped out of the vault. The hallway was dark, but in the light of the safety deposit box room beyond the hall, she didn’t see anyone. Larissa's bare feet tingling on the cold floor tiles as she walked down the hallway and pulled the blanket a bit tighter around herself.

Even though he was watching her from the middle of the room, eyes only on her and giving her no reason to believe anyone else was present, she still peered around the corner apprehensively.  
  


The room was abandoned but the lights and machinery had been left on. It was as if the people working there had left in a hurry.  
  


She whimpered when she saw the all too familiar desk. _Her mother._  
  


She picked up a tablet that had been left on her mother’s desk and searched for the D.C. news. She quickly was able to pull up a live stream, the images made her stomach drop.  
  


Big clouds of smoke billowed out of the Triskelion. The building that she had known as the imposing SHIELD headquarters was now no more than a burning ruin. The remainders of a gigantic helicarrier stuck out of the river like a shipwreck. A news anchor chattered away in the background.

She supported herself with a palm against the tabletop, a shiver of fear went down her spine. Had her mother been in the building? Was she safe? They both had to get out of D.C. as soon as possible.

With wide eyes, she looked over to where he was standing by the barred door.  
  


“I don't know if my mother was at the Triskelion.” A lump formed in her throat. “I need to go find her.”

She looked away, her eyebrows knitting together as she thought about what she needed to know but didn’t feel courageous enough to ask about. “Did,-“ She took a deep breath, “Did Brock survive?”

“I don’t know. But if he did, he will be coming back. We need to leave.”  
  


She nodded meekly. “I need to get some clothes.”  
  


He took a few steps back, staying at a safe distance from her, as she walked to the barred door that was left wide open.  
  


Anxious thoughts swirled through her head as she made her way up the basement stairs. Her pace was slow, her body was heavy and aching all over. She felt as if she wasn't in her own body but floating somewhere above it.

The sound of his steps followed behind her at a respectable distance. He stopped following her when she ascended the next flight of stairs to her room.  
  


He just stood there in the middle of the foyer, in the same place she’d seen Brock humiliate him so many weeks ago. Something about him was different. He didn’t look so meek, he somehow looked deadlier now.  
  


It made her question if this even was an okay idea to trust him to get her out of here. Was leaving the bank even a good idea? She needed to find her mom, and if her mom was alive, this was where she would go.

But if she stayed here and Brock and his men showed up…

She felt her stomach lurch at the thought.  
  


Larissa couldn’t go to the Triskelion. The place would be crawling with feds and possibly Brock’s men.  
  


She needed to lay low for a few days and hope her mother would contact her. Somehow. The man waiting for her in the foyer was her best chance at staying alive long enough to get out of this mess.

She felt stupid for deciding to trust a trained assassin that could be mind-controlled. For all she knew, Brock was using him to lure her into his trap.

She tried to assure herself with the thought that if Brock actually sent him, he wouldn’t have been so gentle with her. He wouldn’t care about her boundaries and would have just dragged her along by her throat.  
  


Larissa dropped the blanket to the floor the moment she reached her room. Reluctantly she looked down at her clothes. It surprised her that they weren’t ripped or torn more than she remembered them to be after the car crash.  
  


Her pants had been left open and hung low on her hips. She felt sticky and dirty. Her legs began to itch as if the garment was burning her skin. _He had ruined her. S_he stripped out of her filthy pants and underwear as quickly as she could.

Her mind was fogged over as she redressed herself and filled her backpack with a change of clothes.  
  


Due to her arm being painful and immobile and her body still feeling shaky, it was a struggle. But after a few minutes, she’d managed to pack the necessities and zip her phone and wallet into the front pocket. She put her jacket on, draping it over her left shoulder, and slung her backpack over her good shoulder before she headed back downstairs.

He walked ahead of her in the hallway that led out to the backside of the building and opened the door. She stumbled behind him out into the alleyway until she noticed that he was heading towards a motorcycle that was parked against the side of the building.

Larissa stopped in her tracks. She thought when he said they were leaving that he had meant by car. Panic washed through her all over again.

Her body began to tremble, her knees feeling as if they’d give out at any moment.  
  


What Brock had done to her made it hurt to walk, she couldn’t handle the thought of what it would be like to sit on a motorcycle that for god knows how long.

“I can't go by motorcycle,” she chocked out.

He turned and glared at her, obviously getting annoyed.

“Where are we even going? With all the shit going on at the Triskelion, the museums will be closed. All of D.C. is going to be closed. They're probably closing off roads too,” she exclaimed suddenly realizing how trapped they were. “Oh my god, He’s going to fucking kill me.”

Her footing was starting to feel unstable.  
  


He got up from the motorcycle seat and walked towards her.

“No! Stop!” She held out her hand as she doubled over.

He slowed. His voice was stern. “Sit down.”

She stepped back feeling the wall brush against her backpack. He was going to force her onto the motorcycle with him. She was cornered. He was going to-

"Sit down. You're hyperventilating.”

A chocked sob left her. She bent her knees and slumped down against the wall.

Once she was seated he turned around and walked to his motorcycle.  
  


She was gasping for air when it hit her.

He was leaving her here.

  
She closed her eyes and rested her head against the brick wall behind her. He could make it out of here with ease. She couldn’t even blame him for leaving without her, she was holding him back after all.

“Here,” His gruff voice broke her out of her thoughts. He twisted the cap off of a water bottle and handed it to her. “Drink.”

The plastic felt cool in her hands. She took a small sip, and then another suddenly realizing how parched she had been.

She placed the cool bottle against her clammy cheek. And slowly but surely, her heartbeat started to calm down.

“Where are we going?” she asked after a few moments of silence.

“We need to get out of this city. They'll be looking for us.” He turned, attention caught by a car that passed by the opening to the alley. “We need to go now.”

Larissa still felt shaky but she pushed herself up to her feet. “I don't know how long I can sit like that for,” she admitted as she reluctantly approached the vehicle.

She sighed and turned to him. “Hold this.” Larissa held her backpack out to him and he took it with a startled look on his face.  
  


Larissa braced herself, placed her foot on the footrest and gripped the seat. Her knuckles turned white as she swung her leg over. She grimaced when she plopped down onto the seat. While she balanced herself with her legs, she placed a hand on her stomach, trying to breathe through the pain.

Once she was seated he sat down in front of her. She scooched back as far as she could, feeling claustrophobic being so close to him. She was glad that he hadn’t offered her backpack back to her. Instead, he had put the backpack on. She was thankful that it would be separating her from sitting up against him as they rode.

He revved the motor once and they sped off out of the alleyway. Taken by surprise, a scream escaped her and she clung to the backpack tighter with her good arm.

Darting through the streets of Washington, it wasn’t long before he turned onto the ramp that merged onto the highway. On the horizon, smoke was billowing and then dispersing into the sky blue summer sky.

  
She wondered how many innocent lives SHIELD, or Hydra, had taken today.  
  


Where they still active? SHIELD used to have access to everything. If they ran facial recognition they might be able to pick them up on highway security cameras.

She shivered_. They could be following them right now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 70 kudos?!?! What the fork, thank you!


	18. Chapter 18

He was sharp and decisive with his movements which helped him zip between cars as they flew over the highway. The road was busy with people trying to leave town. It helped them blend in with the rest of the evacuating civilians. Well, blend in as much as was possible when you're with a man with a highly reflective metal arm.

She clenched her thighs as he made a particularly sharp turn. She knew that it was the adrenaline that was keeping her pain at bay. Her fingers gripped the backpack a bit tighter.

The further away they got from the city, the lighter the traffic became. The evening sun cast an orange glow in the sky and bathed the road in golden light.

It was hard for her to keep track of time but it felt like they had been driving for hours when he steered the motorcycle off of the highway and into a parking lot of a roadside motel.  
  


Like most roadside motels, it didn't look like much. The white paint was peeling off the walls. The neon vacancy sign at the side of the road looked like it had seen better days.

He rolled the motorcycle to a stop in the furthest corner of the parking lot.

“Go get a room. Tell them you're here alone and don't give your real name. I'm going to park somewhere,” he said without looking at her.

He waited for her to climb off of the seat but was ready to pull away as soon as her feet were on the blacktop.

"Wait! How will you find me?"

He glanced towards her, his eyebrows knit tight together. "You underestimate my abilities."  
  


She let out a deep sigh, wiping her tired face with her hand. Could she trust that he would come back? Or was this where he was leaving her for Brock to have an easy pick-up.

His impatient gaze left her.

"Wait," she called out again before he could leave.

He huffed but waited upon her request.

"Can I have my bag back?"

He tossed it to her. It landed with a plop at her feet. As she watched him drive away, she picked up the backpack and slung it over her good shoulder.

She watched him go until the woods on either side of the road swallowed him in the distance. _Was this the last she’d seen of him? _She didn’t know if he would actually come back, but her mind was almost too tired and foggy to care.  
  


The orange evening sun felt warm on her face as she crossed the parking lot. She felt like she would fall asleep on her feet if she didn't find a place to rest soon. The events of that day weighed on her more heavily then her backpack would if it was full of bricks.  
  


The bell above the door chimed as she entered the building. An older woman, who was sat behind the desk, turned towards her. "Hello, what can I do for you today?"

The woman's friendly tone shocked Larissa. She hadn’t been expecting such kindness from a place like this. Maybe it was just that she was weary and on edge. She felt like Brock could jump out at her every time she blinked.

"Hi, uhm- I would like a room, please. Just for one night."

"Can do." The woman turned to her computer. "I'll need to see some ID. What is your name and date of birth?"

Larissa's face fell. Any of her information entered into an online database would act as a homing beacon for Brock if he was looking for her.

"I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can give you this information. At least not for in your record. I can pay for my stay and everything but my information can't be put in an online database."

The woman narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "I don't follow."  
  


"I left someone today and I don’t want him to be able to track me down. He's crazy like that." Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "He has the means to track my card and possibly even search for anything that connects back to me. I have cash. I can pay upfront and everything. I just-"

"That's terrible. Say no more. Girls in situations like yours come past here more often than you’d think."  
  


Somehow, Larissa doubted that.

The woman opened a drawer in the desk she was sat at and fished out a key. She held it out to Larissa and looked her in the eye earnestly.  
  


"Take pride in the step you took today. It sounds like good riddance.”  
  


Larissa pressed her lips together, tears welling up in her eyes, and gave the woman a small nod.

She paid upfront, using almost all the cash she had brought and left the reception office and walked up the stairs to her room.

It wasn’t much but she was too tired and dazed to notice the musty smell, 60’s wallpaper, and moth-eaten curtains.

Her backpack slid from her arm and she sat down on the bed. Her fingers tingled as she pulled off her shoes and waited for him to return. The thought of sleep was making her eyes heavy.  
  


Two knocks at the door scared her out of her sleepy haze.

She walked to the door cautiously. Her socked feet didn't make a sound but she felt like her heartbeat was audible from the other side of the door.

_She needed to calm down,_ she reminded herself. _It was just him._ Hydra wouldn’t have knocked, they would have kicked the door down.

She peeked through the peephole just to be sure. He was standing awfully close to the door and looking around himself, scanning the parking lot.

She opened the creaky door and let him in. He strode past her. His tense, dominant energy filled the small room. He peered through the crack in the curtains before he sat down on the sofa.

She watched him for a moment, pulling her hand up into her sleeve, as he took off his jacket but made no move to take off his boots or unarm himself further. Instead, he stared at her and then past her, at the door. Almost as if he was just waiting for it to get kicked down.

_How was she going to be able to sleep with him in the same room, armed to the teeth and looking like he would jump anyone who looked at him funny? Was this a mistake?_

She swallowed hard. "I'm going to take a shower," she said as she slowly moved herself to collect the necessities from her backpack.

He didn't answer.  
  


She locked the bathroom door behind her. The awkward ceiling lights hummed once she turned it on.

Her eyes widened upon seeing herself in the mirror. It was the first time seeing herself since…..since everything.

There were a few gashes on her cheek from the car accident. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. The dark bags under her eyes made her look as hollow as she felt inside. And of course, the dark purple bruise still wrapped itself around her throat.

  
She closed her eyes and tried to not think about the man who had given her that bruise. The man that was sitting on the sofa in the other room.

With trembling fingers, she unclipped her sling and carefully stripped off her shirt. Bruising from the seatbelt crossed her chest. Her collarbone had a very particular purple hue to it.

All of that didn't surprise Larissa. What made her gasp for air was when she saw the bruises on her hips.

Brock had held her down on the metal cot in the vault. His fingerprints, that now marred her hips, were proof of that.

Just like that, his hands were all over her body again. Slithering down her waist. Never waiting for consent. Just taking.  
  


She tore her gaze away from the mirror and covered her mouth with her hand, hoping to muffle her sobs.

Her whole life she had felt like she wasn't enough but until that moment she had never felt so small. So violated. So worthless.

She reached into the shower and turned on the water. _At least with the water running, he wouldn't be able to hear her pathetic sobs from the other room. _

Once the mirror was fogged over and steam filled the bathroom in a misty hue, she kicked off her pants and stepped into the shower.

She scrubbed at the disgusting purple prints and let her tears flow freely under the spray of warm water. Her thoughts were all consumed by what was taken from her today. She wasn't okay and she wondered if she ever would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, my heart breaks for this poor girl. I can barely imagine how frightening this all must be.
> 
> I feel like I probably should have combined this chapter with the last one, since it’s a bit short and not too much happened here but whatever. Buckle your seatbelts though, the next chapter is going to be a ride.
> 
> Thank you all for sticking around and reading! I hope you have a nice day!


	19. Chapter 19

Larissa woke the next morning to something poking at her right shoulder, pulling her from a deep and dreamless sleep. She wiped her hand over her face and groaned. Her body felt like it had been chewed up and spit out. She opened her sore and swollen eyes, to see him awkwardly standing next to the bed.   
  


"Get up. We’re leaving soon." He turned and walked into the bathroom. The shower started a few moments later.   
  


She groaned as she turned onto her side and took in the room. He had slept on the sofa. His jacket and boots lay in a pile on the floor in front of it.   
  


If they were going to go to the Smithsonian today or tomorrow he couldn't go dressed like that. They would catch too much attention before they could even set foot on the museum grounds.

She managed to get dressed and put on her sling by herself. She was eating a granola bar that had been stashed in her backpack when he returned from the bathroom and began putting on his boots.

Her thoughts lingered anxiously on her mother as she ate. She had to find her, preferably without Brock finding her or her mother first. _If she was even alive still. Fuck._  
  


“We need a plan. I will show you the museum but after that, I need to find my mother. Can you help me?” She held out a granola bar to him. He eyed it for a moment before taking it from her.

“If Brock has my mother I don't stand a chance at finding her if he doesn’t want me to,” she added.

He raised his eyebrow but other than that his face remained blank. "What makes you think I do?"  
  


Larissa shook her head. “I'm not asking you to go after Brock. I wouldn't ask you that. I'm just asking you to take me to the sight. Is that okay?"

It was barely noticeable but his eyes widened before his face was wiped of all emotion. He didn't respond.  
  


"I hope that someone coordinating the search team at the Triskelion will have a lead for me.”  
  


"And if they don't?"  
  


Their eyes connected.  
  


Larissa let out a heavy sigh. She couldn't think of what would happen then. Or what that might mean.

“You are going to need some other clothes if you want to get anywhere near the museum,” she said softly. “I just googled and there is a second-hand store in the next town over-"

A curt knock sounded at the door.  
  


He was on his feet immediately, back close to the wall and gun in hand. He unclicked the safety as he stalked to the door.

"Wait! Stop!" Larissa whispered, "It might just be the lady from downstairs-"

"Get behind the bed." He looked back, narrowing his eyes when he saw she hadn't moved. "Now."  
  


"Don't hurt her," she pleaded.  
  


He said nothing and turned back to the door  
  


“Larissa?” A familiar voice called out from the other side. “I know your in there. I just want to talk.”   
  


Her eyes went wide. Her breath choked in her own throat._ Brian?_ _How the hell had he found them?_

He cocked his head and glared back at her. “Get down.”  
  


She got down from the bed and pulled herself underneath it, hiding from view.  
  


The next moment happened so fast. She could just see it from where she was laying on the floor.

The door was whipped open. With a grip on his collar and a knock to the head, Brian was on the floor, groaning in pain and clutching his face.

In the meantime_ he _quickly patted Brian down, taking a gun and a knife from Brian before _he_ left the room gun drawn and pointed straight ahead.

It took a few minutes for him to return.  
  


Brian was addressed with a kick to the stomach. “Are you alone?”  
  


The kick sent Brian into a fit of coughs as he tried to regain his breath.  
  


“I asked you a question.” _He_ growled out.

“It’s just me, I swear! I didn’t know you were here. I was just looking for Larissa.” Brian turned onto his back, moving to sit up again, ”Do you know where-“

With a kick and a knee to the back, Brian was pinned face down to the ground again. “How did you find us?”

“Us? So she _is_ still here? I followed you guys. You dropped her off and left so I checked into the motel. I-I wanted to make sure she was okay. I wanted to wait till morning before I came to talk to her. I swear- I didn’t know- I-“  
  


“Is Brock alive?”   
  


“He didn’t send me! I swear to god, I haven’t seen him yet but he’s been trying to contact me since- well since yesterday-“

The gunshot echoed through the room.

Then everything was quiet except for Larissa’s hiccuping sobs. The gunshot was still ringing in her ear.

  
“Stay here,” he gritted his teeth, “I’m going to get rid of this.”

She heard him pick up Brian's body and leave the room.

  
She crawled out from under the bed and curled in on herself. Her hands shook.

The door opening and the sound of his boots signaled his return. “Get up. We need to go.” He plucked his jacket from the floor and put it on.   
  


“You didn’t have to kill him,” she bit out. Anger boiled up out of the trembling fragileness inside her. ‘Why did you- he-, God” she sobbed.

He ignored her comment. “We need to go. Get your things. Don't make me ask again.”   
  


Slowly she got up and looked around trying to identify her belongings but the room felt alien. Her eyes could only focus on the puddle of blood that now stained the carpet.

Brian had never done anything to hurt her, except for working for Brock. She started crying again. _Brock was going to find her. She could feel it.  
  
_

He scoffed and began stashing her things into her backpack and zipped it before handing it to her.

“Pull yourself together. Leave the keys here and meet me out in front.” He left the door open as he walked out.  
  


She hiked her bag up onto her good shoulder and shied her face away from the red stain on the carpet, feeling like she was going to hurl. She pulled the door shut behind her.

**________________________________**

Her head felt fuzzy and disorientated. The ride to the second thrift store was short which Larissa was very glad for. Her body was so sore, even sitting felt like her muscles were burning.

Once they came to a stop in the parking lot she got off of the motorcycle ungracefully. Her body felt like a disoriented blob.

"You coming?" Larissa asked when he didn't follow her.

He looked a bit confused but she didn't back down. She wouldn't be able to carry much with her arm still in the sling. Besides, he was less likely to abandon her here or kill anyone else if she could keep an eye on him.

"There's an oversized hoodie in my backpack. It’s going to be a tight fit but it will make you stand out less in there." Her eyes scanned over him, cringing at the multiple knives and holsters. "And you need to take those off. We can't have anyone calling the police because there's a guy walking around covered in weapons."

He grumbled a bit, clearly unhappy about unarming himself, but did as she asked. "Make it quick."

They walked through the sliding doors and straight to the men's section.   
  


She quickly found a shirt or two, a flannel and jacket that looked about his size.

A decent pair of jeans were harder to find. She settled for a pair that was definitely going to be a few sizes too big but seemed to be the only option.  
  


Focussing on the task at hand took her mind off of the events of the past 24 hours. Her numbness melted a bit although her fingers were tingling even after she pulled them into her sleeves.

He carried the growing pile of clothes and followed close behind her. She could tell he was on edge. He constantly scanning the store, eyes darting to the sliding door and personnel door in the back any time it opened.  
  


He changed at a gas station a little bit later. Now that he was dressed in civilian clothes he looked so much more ordinary. She hoped it was enough for people to not glance twice at them. Or look long enough to notice his shiny metal hand or the guns and knives he had concealed.

  
She handed him the baceball cap she had bought.   
  


He held it in his hand, observing it before putting it on.   
  


“Guys wear those a lot around here. You'll blend right in and it will conceal your face if they are checking cameras” She held out her card to him. "I'm worried that they'll be able to track our location with this, but it's the only payment method I have."  
  


He opened his mouth to speak but she interjected. "-And we're not stealing."

He nodded reluctantly and took the card from her, using it to fuel up the motorcycle while she went inside, in search of the restroom.   
  


She was washing her hands when she heard a shuffle behind her. She thought the bathroom was empty. Sofar she had heard no other noise to indicate anyone else was in here with her. She looked back at the stall it was coming from. The stall door opened at the same moment as the restroom door swung open behind her.  
  


Her breath caught in her throat and she took a step back, pressing herself up against the sink. Everything inside of her told her to run but her feet couldn’t move.   
  


"Sir, this is the ladies’ restroom. You can't be in here," a woman said angrily from behind Larissa before she began cleaning the sink to the right.   
  


Brock just stood there casually, a smug grin pulling at the corner of his lips. "Oh sorry, must have walked into the wrong one." Without looking away from her he washed his hands in the sink to her left.   
  


He smirked at Larissa through the mirror.   
  


Her knuckles turned white from her grip on the counter. Black dots began to pixelate her sight. She had to get outside, immediately. She tried to walk as calmly as she could with panic coursing through her. If she could just make it out to the motorcycle they'd have a chance of getting away.   
  


Brock was behind her the moment she stepped out of the restroom and into the store. Something hard pushed into the small of her back. She whimpered.

"Don't draw attention or I'll lodge a bullet in your spine, as well as everyone else's,” he whispered into her hair. The way his breath tickled her ear made her want to shy away from him as shivers made her raise her shoulders.

Tears made her vision go blurry. A sob escaped her.

"Shut up and keep walking. You see that truck over there?" He pointed at a black van parked on the far side of the lot. "That's where we're going."

She tried to walk as slowly as possible with him pushing her along. Her eyes darted around, scanning the faces of the people around her, desperately looking for _him_.

"You can stop looking for the Asset. He isn’t here anymore. Fled the moment he saw us.”

Her body deflated.

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled, sensing her disappointment “I’ll get him back soon enough.”

Now that Brock had her, there was no telling what he would do. She had done more than enough to piss him off.

They needed ‘the Asset’. If they ever got him they would wipe and start over. He was of use to them. She, on the other hand, was disposable. She was just a loose end ready to be dealt with.  
  


Brock pulled open the sliding door on the backside of the van and pushed her in. She managed to land on her uninjured side but a sudden, harsh movement sent shockwaves of pain through her body. She cried out.

Brock got in behind her and closed the door. He tapped on the divider to the front seats and the motor rumbled to life.

“Turn around.” He said when he saw that Larissa was still looking at him. “Someone you probably want to see.”

  
Larissa pushed herself up to sit and turned herself away from Brock who cocked his eyebrow up with amusement.

In the corner furthest away from Brock sat her mother slumped against the side of the car, with an array of little cuts across her cheeks and one of her eyes were almost swollen shut.

  
"Mom?" Larissa gasped. She crawled over to her and pulled her mother against her. Her mother's arms pulled her in. As her hands began to stroke Larissa’s hair, Larissa could feel that they were shaking.

"Are you okay?" she whispered into Larissa's hair.

All the pain, all the betrayal Larissa had felt in the last 24 hours dripped down her face in tears. "No, I’m not. Are you okay, mom?"   
  


The emotion was thick in her mother's voice. "I’ve failed you," she murmured. "I am selfish. I wanted to see you grow up. You should have never come near any of this. Will you forgive me for that?"

"Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault." Larissa's voice trembled with anger. When she looked over to Brock, who still hadn't wiped the amused smirk off his face, she wanted to puke.

The van took a sudden turn and the road became bumpy.

  
The jolting quickly began tugging at her collarbone making Larissa wince in pain. She pressed her cheek against her mother's shoulder.   
  


"Larissa," her mother's voice was but a whisper now, barely audible above the hum of the motor. "I need you to listen to me. If you make it out I need you to know that there is a safe house in Romania. Your father and I made sure we’d have a safe place to go if things went south."

"Don’t say that. We’re both going to get out of this-"  
  


"Please, just listen. It’s an apartment in Bucharest. It isn’t much but it’s paid off and no one knows about it so it should be safe." She repeated the address a few times, whispering into Larissa's ear.

"The owner of the building knows me and you’re in their records too so you should be able to live there for as long as necessary."

"I’m not going to leave without you."

Her mother gave Larissa a stern look. "You will do what you need to do to make it out of this. I’ve dug my grave by associating myself with this but that doesn’t mean you need to go down with this organization."

A few moments later the van stopped. They listened in silence as someone got out of the driver's seat and opened the sliding door.

Larissa squinted at the sudden bright light. Before she could get accustomed to it Brock’s rough hands pulled her out of the van by her right arm. She struggled to get away from him but her left collarbone seared with every jolt of her body. Without giving Larissa the chance to stand Brock dragged her along by her wrist.   
  


"Wow, where did all this fight come from? You weren’t even struggling this much back in the vault,” he chuckled.

Anger coursed through her body. Fear caused her to tremble in his arms.

"It’s okay, sweetheart. It’ll be over soon." The fact that he was smirking could be heard in his voice.

He released her arm and she landed face-first in the grass. Pain rolled from her collarbone like waves. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out.   
  


"Get on your knees," Brock barked from somewhere next to her as he pushed Larissa's mother onto the grass.

  
When Larissa didn't move, his hand wound itself into her hair and yanked her up.

Tears streamed down her face now. This was going to be it. He was going to kill them and leave them in the middle of the small clearing they had parked in. This was where she’d leave this world. The leaves rustled as the wind picked up. No one was going to find them here.  
  


Larissa looked up at the van. Alex stood quietly, his eyes were solemnly trained on her but when he caught her gaze he looked down.

Larissa was seething. The daggers of her gaze could have killed him but he just simply looked away, avoiding the confrontation.   
  


Her friend was gone.

The sound of Brock removing his gun from its holster made her look back at him. He stood in front of her mother, who set her jaw despite how hard she was shaking.

“No” Larissa sobbed, trying to crawl closer to her mother, only to be kicked away by Brock. “Plea-Don't do this.” She pleaded. ”We will disappear. We'll-We are not a threat to you. Let her go. Please.”   
  


Brock ignored Larissa and widened his stance. "After working with you for so long, I didn’t think it would have to come to this, Audrey. You were always very obedient, much better than your husband. Truly a shame we can’t keep you on the team but you can't be trusted."

He raised the pistol, pointing it directly at Larissa's mother’s head.   
  


“No, don't do this. Mom!”

Her mother turned her face towards Larissa. "Look away," she whispered. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks but her expression was strong. She smiled tearfully at Larissa.   
  


Larissa cried and pleaded with words that couldn't be understood. Her nostrils flared.   
  


The gunshot echoed.  
  


The world around her went quiet.   
  


Her mother's body thumped onto the ground.

Larissa screamed.

She slumped forward. Screaming into the grass. Sobs racked through her body as her forehead rested on the ground.

Brock footsteps ebbed away.

The sound of another pair of footsteps stopping in front of her made Larissa push herself up, ready to scream and fight in a rampage of anger and hurt.

Her rage died in her throat with a choked sob when she saw that it was Alex who stood in front of her, pistol held tightly by his side. He refused to look her in the eye.

"I want you to look at her, you coward. Look her in the eyes as you kill her," Brock barked from behind him.   
  


Alex empty gaze broke. His bottom lip quivered. "I'm not doing it."

"What did you say?"

"I said I’m not going to kill her," Alex screamed. "I’m not going to do it." He dropped the gun and walked away.   
  


Brock went after him but his fit of anger faded out when Larissa realized.

_Alex was giving her a chance._

His gun lay in the grass in front of her, glinting in the sunlight. He was giving her the possibility to save her own life.

Her shaking hand was reaching for the gun while she was fighting to calm her sobbing gasps when a shot echoed through the woods. Immediately she ducked down and held the gun close to her chest.   
  


_Alex?_   
  


Her breathing was high and fast like someone was closing her airway slowly. Fresh tears sprung into her eyes.  
  


_Had Brock just killed his own brother? _   
  


She curled her legs into her chest and laid there in a fetal position, not daring to look up and see Brock walking towards her. With Alex out of the way, he would come back to her to finish the job.

An engine revved, twigs broke as a vehicle came closer to the clearing.

Shakily she pushed herself up so she could peer over the tall grass. The sight of Alex still standing beside Brock made her let out a sigh of relief.   
  


Brock's aim followed something that she couldn't see behind the trees until a motorcycle broke out of the tree line.

_He_ sat low in the seat, flattening himself to the motorcycle. _Had he come for her? _

Her confusion didn't stop her from using this moment of distraction to get to her feet and run out of view of Brock and Alex. She flattened her back to the side of the van.

More gunshots were fired.

The motorcycle skitted to a stop next to her. He held out his hand to haul her up into the seat. She scrambled to get on, her foot slipped but held onto her backpack that he was was still wearing.

The motor revved and they sped off. Larissa's body slid backward, slamming into the metal seatback.

Brock made a lame, last attempt at shooting them but the trees were dense. A bullet whizzed as it hit a tree they had just passed.  
  


She glanced back. Alex looked deflated but satisfied as he watched them go. Brock kicked the side of the van.   
  


And her mother....  
  


She looked over her shoulder one last time. The clearing became invisible through the trees.

She was leaving her mother behind.   
  


She gripped the backpack tighter, buried her face in it, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, my finger slipped and now I have a chapter with two murders and a thrift store haul ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I told you it was going to be a ride!
> 
> Brock obviously hasn’t suffered burn wounds (from the Triskelion) like he does in canon. He just had to stick around and be a sick asshole/dirtbag. Sign up for the “Brock-needs-to-suffer-after-all-he’s-done” club. I've got my pitchfork ready.
> 
> On another note, a big thank you to everyone that has been leaving kudos and comments! Thank you for all the positive energy.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Have a nice day!


	20. Chapter 20

For a long time, Larissa just sat there with her cheek pressed into the side of the backpack as she watched the scenery fly by. When they started to pass more and more buildings she realized where they were.

They were back in Washington. _He was taking her to the Smithsonian_.

It hit her like a ton of bricks and sent her mind spiraling into chaos. He had only come to find her so she could show him the museum. She was only a means to an end for him. He would go on without her once he had the information he needed, leaving her here, within reach of a man who she was making angrier and angrier by the day.

_A man that had just killed her mother._

Her sweaty palms gripped the backpack tighter as he stopped in a parking spot. She recognized the Smithsonian castle to her right and knew that the Air and Space Museum was just a short walk away.

"Which building is it?" he asked as he got off of the motorcycle and scanned the business of people that were out and about.

She met his question with silence. He huffed under his breath and raised his eyebrows.

She searched for strength within herself with a deep breath."You’re going to leave after this, aren’t you?"

She was scared of the answer, scared of the possibility of being left here to fend for herself. The museum was all she had over him and she didn’t want to hold it over him but she needed to know what she was in for. Today had been more than she could handle and it was barely 1 p.m.

"Is that what you want?"

"I don’t know what I want. I’m scared." She hugged her arms closer around herself, careful to not strain her collarbone. “My mom told me about this safe house in Bucharest. But they’ll find me if I try to leave the country. I don’t have my passport and- I can’t stay here. They will kill me. I don’t know what to do.” Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know how to get myself out of this.” She wiped her eyes roughly, all too aware that she had to be looking like a mess right now. She hoped people wouldn’t be paying too much attention to a puffy-faced, teary-eyed girl.

"Show me what we came for. We need to get out of here before we’re recognized."

She nodded timidly.

He took a step back, making room so she could get off of the motorcycle.

As she was getting off she became aware of the object she had hidden in the folds of her sling again. “I have a gun in my sling.”

“What?”

She shook her head trying not to relive how she got it. “Hand me the backpack.” She stuffed it as close to the bottom as she could.

Larissa took a deep breath and got off, planting her feet on the concrete sidewalk, looking around her before looking down at the ground, letting her hair fall in her face. “It’s this way.”

  
  


He walked next to her as they entered the museum.

Despite the disastrous events at the Triskelion yesterday, the building was bustling with people. The thought of having to weave her way through the mass made her breath heavy in her chest.

He turned when she stopped walking, looking around at the crowd first them before making eye contact with her.

  
She swallowed hard and pointed towards the exhibit on the other side of the room. “It’s in there.”  
  


He nodded and walked ahead of her, leading the way through the people as Larissa followed meekly behind him.

He looked back, checking that she had followed him when they made it to the other side of the hall, before turning back to the entrance of the exhibit. His pace slowed as he looked up. She watched as he took in the picture of Steve that adorned the entrance before slowly walking into the room.

Larissa followed him at a respectable distance, wanting to give him space as he took in the remnants of his past. _Did he remember any of it? _Or had her mother’s experiments and Hydra’s control over him had wiped the memories completely blank?

She couldn’t rid herself of the guiltiness for having participated in it, even in a small and unknowing way.

He stopped right in front of the Howling Commando’s display. His picture was up there with the rest of the team, right next to Steve.

The serious expression he always held on his face didn’t waver as he stared at the display for a few minutes.

As if popping out of a dream he turned, looking for her. She caught his attention with a little wave and motioned at a glass display off to the side of the Commandos.

He froze the moment he set eyes on the display.   
  


_A Fallen Comrade. Bucky Barnes. _

Despite the business around them and the mindfuck of seeing yourself in a museum like this, he seemed calm and calculated. His eyes danced over the picture of his own face and he read through the information. It was only when he took a step back and wiped his hand over his face that his calmness broke. He turned away seeming to want to distance himself from what he was seeing.

She took a small step towards him, not wanting to spook him. “There was one more video of you. I can show you if you’re up for it.”

He nodded but didn’t look up at her. She crossed to the back of the room where a small screen played a compilation of videos of Steve, including one of Steve and him laughing together.

She couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind right now. He hid it well with a creased brow and his lips pressed into a fine line. But she could see something in his eyes soften.   
  


“Let’s go,” he nodded at her as he distanced himself from the screen.

As she followed him out, she tried to imagine what it must be like for him, seeing your past life in a museum and not remembering it. To be remembered by the world as a war hero, killed in action but going through life as an assassin for Hydra. She couldn’t imagine the road of recovery that lay before him.

He didn’t race off the moment he reached the motorcycle. Instead, he waited for her to climb on behind him.

“Where do we go from here?” she whispered, almost not daring to ask. The idea of leaving behind the world as she knew it weighed heavy on her shoulders. There was nothing was left for her here.

“We leave the county,” he replied curtly, without providing what that meant exactly.

“To the safe house?”  
  


He nodded at that.  
  


“But we can’t go by plane, right? We’d never make it through airport security if Brock has people watching.”

He didn’t respond to but by the way he was staying alert of their surroundings, she knew he was still very much sure there was a threat to them. The fact that Brock and Alex had failed at eliminating them didn’t mean that they were safe now. There would be others who’d want to try to bring them in at Brock’s request.

They drove off, leaving the Smithsonian behind. She wound her fist into the backpack. Her body and mind were worn out but she felt more at peace knowing that he wasn’t going to leave her by herself just yet. She didn’t know how else she would make it to Bucharest.

A few blocks away from the museum he stopped at a back, asking her to go and withdraw money, which she did, reluctantly. The thought of possibly having to interact with people made her nervous but the idea of him ditching her while she was inside was far far worse. Her heart leaped in her chest when she saw him still waiting on the curb when she returned.

Riding on the back of the motorcycle gave her time to think, time to feel. Her brain was mush, her body ached. Despite the emotional trauma, she had experienced that day she felt oddly okay in that moment.

Well, maybe not necessarily okay.

More like empty. And numb. And tired.

She was eager to get wherever they were going but feared that the moment she laid herself down to rest she wouldn’t get up again.  
  


As the scenery flashed by and the wind breezed through her hair, a sort of calm settled over her. She was close to believing that this all was just a dream and that as soon she woke up the world would go back to how it was before.

Her butt had gone completely numb a while ago. She tried to stay comfortable by adjusting herself every so often. She leaned forward, trying to get closer to him so he would be able to hear her over the roaring of the motor and the wind in their ears.

“How far are we going today?”  
  


He didn’t answer but looked over his shoulder before he crossed a few lanes and pulled off of the highway at a gas station. She climbed off as soon as they stopped.

He got off, put the motorcycle on its kickstand and opened the top of the fuel tank. “We’re an hour out from the Philadelphia harbor.“   
  


“So we’re going to take a boat across?”  
  


“If we can find one that’s willing to take us.” He began filling the tank.

She watched him as she stretched her back the best she could without pulling on her collarbone too much. She let him know that she was going to go find a restroom.

If her bladder didn’t feel like it was close to bursting she wouldn’t be going anywhere near a gas station bathroom after what had happened that morning. It eased her nerves a bit when she saw that she wasn’t the only woman there. After she came back out of the stall and washed her hands, she splashed her face with cold water.

She tried to push down the thoughts that drove through her mind at the pace of a high-speed car chase. She had to stay with it, at least until they found a boat.

On her way out her eyes were caught by a coffee machine.

She hurried back outside with two cups and some snacks. For what felt like the hundredth time that day she felt the relief of seeing him still there. She was painfully aware that he would be faster and more efficient if he didn’t have to wait for her. But instead of leaving, he was there, slowly pacing back and forth behind the motorcycle.   
  


Even though she had never seen him show his needs, she realized that he must be feeling the need to move around just as much as she did.

“Here,” she handed him one of the carton cups once he was within reach.

His eyebrows knitted together leaving him looking confused, but he took the steaming beverage from her hand nevertheless. She watched him take a timid taste.  
  


“You’ve never had coffee before,” she mused, before taking a big sip.

He shrugged his shoulders and took another gulp.

  
She sighed, wondering how much damage they had really done to him if he didn’t even remember coffee.

They drank and ate side by side, in silence.

After that short break, they were back on the road. It took less than ten minutes for Larissa’s butt to feel as numb as it had felt before the break.   
  


On her right side, the concrete sound barrier that was erected alongside the highway gave way to a beautiful view of the river. They entered the city but stayed close to the river. Light glimmered off of it whenever she caught a peek through the trees.

It wasn’t long before they entered a more industrial area. Large, quiet warehouses and factories stood proudly beside the water. Ships in various sizes were mored along the piers as crewmen emptied or loaded their cargo.

He stopped the bike at the end of one of the more civilized looking piers. A crane was loading brightly colored containers onto a ship at the end of it. The deck was already layered with a few dozen of them, from what Larissa could see.

He got off, put out the kickstand and handed Larissa her backpack. “Stay here. I’m going to see if I can get us passage.”

She fished out the envelope, holding it out towards him. “You're probably going to need this.”

He nodded, took it from her and walked down the pier. He stopped one of the crewmembers, who listened to him for a while before leading him on board and out of sight.

  
She was starting to get worried when he finally appeared on deck again.

“Are they letting us come?” she asked once he was within hearing range.

He nodded, face serious as usual, and handed her back the envelope of money. It was lighter than before but knew that this was their chance to get out. If that meant paying a sum of money, that was what they’d have to do.

While she stashed the envelope into her backpack, he took the motorcycle off of the stand and rolled it to the edge of the pier.

“What are you doing?”

With a solid push, it fell, handlebars over wheels into the water. The back tire poked out of the water for a while as it slowly disappeared into the dark water reminding too much of the helicarrier wreckage sticking out of the Potomac she'd seen footage of.

“It might buy us some time," he said as he began walking ahead in the direction of the boat. “Probably not, but we won’t be needing it anymore.”

She let out a nervous chuckle. “I hope we won’t be needing it.”  
  


They boarded the ship. One of the crew members was already waiting to show them to their room. He led them below deck, explaining along where the kitchen and cafeteria were.

At the back of the communal cafeteria, he led them down a corridor with doors on either side. Towards the end of the hall, he opened one, holding it open for them.

The room was small, as could be expected for a smaller cargo ship like this, but the sight of the bed made Larissa want to collapse into it nonetheless.

The small double bed was place up against the wall, right under two portholes that looked out across the river. There was a sofa and a coffee table. There was a door on the right next to the entrance that presumably led to a small bathroom. A closet was built into the wall beside the bathroom  
  


The crewmen informed Larissa with a laugh that she was in luck. At the end of the hall were the two communal shower rooms, separated by gender, and there was only one other female on board this ship.  
  


The man left, taking his boisterous laugh with him down the hall where he could be heard greeting someone.

The door fell shut, making the man’s laugh fade away to the silence of the room.

She wiped her tired eyes with her hand and sat down on the sofa to untie her shoes. It hit her then that she should offer the bed to him, being smaller and less bulky than he was and all. It would be far easier for her to sleep on the sofa then it would be for him.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” she stated plainly. “I’m a lot smaller than you.” She got up and started pulling open cupboards and drawers in search of a blanket, which she was able to find quite quickly.

His eyes followed her vigilantly. “I don’t sleep much.”  
  


“No, it’s fine. Take the bed.” She grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and dropped it on the one side of the sofa. She draped the blanket out, the best she could with one arm. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Gdansk, Poland.” He took off his jacket, dropped it on the bed and sat down beside it. “It’ll take 12 days if the weather is good.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I swear to god, if they are waiting for us when we get there-“ She rested her head in her hand not wanting to think about anything anymore.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup dudes, How are you all?   
Hayfever is killing me today .-.
> 
> I had wanted to get this chapter up on Sunday but then I procrastinated it when I realized it was 4k words long and still needed to be edited. Sometimes editing sucks but it's all part of the writing process I guess. 
> 
> I remember thinking about the events in this chapter pretty early in the writing/planning process and trying to figure out how they are even going to get to Romania. Let me tell you, they've got a while to go before they get there.
> 
> I feel so sad for Bucky. Can you even imagine seeing yourself in a museum like that and not remembering any of it? 
> 
> Anyways, Thanks for stopping by. Have a nice day!


	21. Chapter 21

It was the sunlight reflecting off of the water and filtering through the porthole windows that woke her the next morning. She clamped her eyes shut and stretched before looking around the room. The sheets were thrown open on the bed and her travel companion was nowhere to be seen.  
  


It was still early. She could see a little sliver of the sky from where she lay. It was bright orange with swirling pink clouds indicating that the sun must have risen not too long ago.

She pressed her eyes closed, still getting used to the light and trying to understand what she was feeling. After everything that had happened to her, she would expect herself to feel terrified, angry and sad. Instead, she just felt hollow.

The thought of her mother being dead didn’t bring tears to her eyes because it didn’t feel real.  
  


The thought of fleeing across the with an emotionally unstable, brainwashed assassin should make her spiral into a panic attack. Somehow it didn’t.

_Because it didn’t feel real.  
  
_

The rumble of the motor brought her back to reality as she got up and got changed. They must have left the harbor sometime during the night.  
  


She decided to go find something to eat when the discomfort of her grumbling stomach became greater than her apprehension for facing the outside alone. Larissa wandered down the hall and into the cafeteria, finding it surprisingly quiet. A few men were finishing their breakfasts here and there but most of the tables were empty.

A rosy woman, who was working at the counter saw her come into the room and waved her over. The woman introduced herself as Anneke, the cook and wife of the captain. Before Larissa knew it she held a bowl of steaming porridge.  
  


Anneke watched her eat with a small smile on her face. “You must have been starving,” she mused when Larissa quickly finished the bowl of food. “Would you like some more?”  
  


Larissa nodded with a blush to which Anneke chuckled as she scooped her some more.

Larissa decided that she liked Anneke’s accent. For someone who didn’t speak English as a first language, Anneke spoke it well.  
  


“Now that you are well fed,” Anneke started as she took a seat next to Larrissa at the table, “tell me about yourself. We have people, who aren’t crew, join us for the crossing.”  
  


“I can imagine.” Larissa sighed not quite knowing what she should say.

  
She could tell Anneke was someone who would easily see through a lie. The woman’s warm smile and bright eyes felt trustworthy enough.  
  


“They are people after us,” Larissa said quietly. “We’re trying to get away, leaving the country and hoping they don’t follow.”  
  


“They hurt you?” she asked with a nod to Larissa’s bruised neck and slinged arm.  
  


Larissa winced, knowing the hand-shaped bruise on her neck was beginning to morph into a greenish hue. She pressed her nails into her palm and nodded before looking away.

“Ach,” Anneke nodded with a frown on her face. It melted away into a smile soon after. “You and your cabinmate are together, yes?”

“Oh- no,” Larissa shook her head and chuckled. “Just two people running from the same evil. I don’t know him very well.”  
  


“He doesn’t talk much, does he?”

Larissa smiled. “It didn’t take you very long to figure that out.”

Aneke nodded with a smile but then turned serious. “He ate his breakfast up on deck,” she said with a nod towards the stairs, “far away from the crew.”  
  


“Is he still up there?”  
  


“I did not see him come down so he must be.”

Larissa stood up. “Thank you for breakfast. I’m going to check on him.”  
  


“No problem, dear. If you need anything let me know.”

Larissa bid her farewell and took the metal stairs up to the deck. The fresh ocean air filled her lungs and tugged at her hair. She looked out at the vast space, appreciating the view before turning back towards the deck to look for him.

She felt pathetic when she realized she didn’t even know what she should call him. She didn’t want to trigger him by using his real name.

She looked around the main deck without any luck. She leaned up against the railing looking out over the container cargo that the boat was shipping, wondering if he had found a place to hide among the brightly colored containers.  
  


She was about to go back inside when she spotted a ladder that went up to an upper deck area. She decided to take a last look, hoping to get a better view of the cargo before she went back in. The wind was starting to give her the chills.

She climbed up a few steps and stopped. He was sitting at the edge of the deck, legs dangling over the side, arms crossed over one another against the bottom bar of the fence. His empty bowl was beside him on the ground.

“Hi. Do you mind if I join you?”

He shrugged but didn’t look back at her. She climbed the rest of the way up and took a seat a meter or two away from him.  
  


“Can I ask you something?”  
  


He shrugged again, not going out of his way to respond. She tried not to take it personally. She felt like she was intruding on him as it was.  
  


Her cold fingers held her hair back so she could look at him without it flying into her eyes.  
  


“Well, we’re going to be cooped up together for a while and I- I don’t know, I just realized- What do you want me to call you?”

“You know my name, don’t you?” he said looking toward her before turning back out to the horizon.  
  


“I know.” She looked out at the vast expansion of the ocean. The sky was now bright blue and the dark blue water stretched out as far as the eye could see. “I just wanted to ask. After everything.” She paused. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with me calling you by your name. Like if you want me to call you something else, that’s fine too-“

“You can call me Bucky,” he blurted out, stopping her rambling.  
  


She smiled a little at those words. The way he said it was almost as if the syllables were foreign on his tongue. She glanced over to him to see that he was already looking at her.

She nodded. “Okay then. I’ll call you Bucky.”  
  


She rubbed her hand over her arm, trying to warm herself from the cold chill of the wind. “I’m going to go in and take a shower. See you later.” She got up and walked back to the ladder.  
  


“Larissa.”

She turned on her heels, surprised to hear him calling out her name. She couldn’t remember if he had ever used her name before.  
  


He looked so small there by the railing in front of the vast ocean, hair floating in the wind. She couldn’t help but notice that he looked less hunched into himself than when she had found him.

“Thank you for, uhm, asking.”  
  


Larissa smiled at him. “You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this last little part of this chapter. Honestly, even as the writer, I do a little internal squeal at the cuteness. 
> 
> The person who guesses Anneke’s nationality (without google lol) gets cookie points. I can hear the accent in my head while reading it but i don’t think it’s super obvious, especially if you're not familiar with that (european) county. 
> 
> I’m planning on uploading another chapter later today. (it's only like 700 words long so it's a tiny lil bonus chapter ;p)


	22. Chapter 22

His hair was plastered to his cheeks, brow and forehead. Water droplets trickled down from his hair onto his face. Nothing had happened. He had just taken a shower, he tried to remind himself.  
  


_His body plunged into the water below, diving after a body that was drowning. Water fell from his hair into his eyes as he trudged to shore pulling the body out of the water behind him. The man’s face haunted him. The face now had a name. _

_Steve. _

_His mission. _He had almost killed him.

_Steve._

_That video. In the museum. The two of them standing side by side. Laughing. Even though he felt almost unrecognizable to himself in the video, he had read his own lips _ _clearly_ _. “We are friends_

His steps were heavy and hurried as he made his way through the hall back to the room. He felt like he needed to sit down. His breath felt restricted, almost in the same way it did when he wore the mask they made him wear. With every turn in the hall, he was prepared to face the barrel of a gun. It felt like the faces of Hydra operatives would be waiting for him with every turn.

More then he could take on. Forcing him to the ground or tasing him into unconsiousness_. _

_Electricity. Convulsing until he passed out._  
  


This attack of his thoughts felt like it had come out of nowhere. He had been taking a shower when the images began pouring in. Images of things he could not remember but obviously had experienced.  
  


Is this what happened when he went this long without Hydra messing with his head? It almost made him with for the relief of emptiness again.  
  


The door to their room banged against the wall under his force.  
  


The wooden doorpost splintered beneath his fingertips when he grabbed a hold of it. He didn’t notice. All he knew is that he needed to hold something to anchor himself in the present. _It wasn’t real._  
  


Door. _Gears churning as the heavy safe door bolted shut._

Carpet. Green. Checkered. _Bloodstain._ Green. Checkered.

Sink. Crack in the wall. Toilet. _The sound of boots on the tiled floor. _  
  


Pillow. Sheets. _Cot. Cold. The metal safe floor._

His eyes darted around, not stopping to focus long enough on one thing before they were off to the next. His nostrils flared with every ragged breath.

Despite his hypervigilance, he didn’t notice that Larissa was there in the room until she spoke up, causing his heartbeat to only accelerate more.

“What happened?” Her voice was filled with concern as she placed the book she was reading beside her on the sofa. Red and white, black letters, hardcover, worn-

“Are they here? Did they find you-“ Her words faded out.

He narrowed his eyebrows as he studied her face. _He had seen her before_.

_Yes_, he reminded himself. _He had saved her from the bank._ She was a victim.

Her mouth moved but no words could be heard.

_But before that-_ _She was Hyrda. _But not anymore_. Right?_

When she stood up and took a step towards him he took a step back letting go of the doorframe in the process. His anxious gaze was pulled down at the ground, where the splinters fell from his metal hand. His other hand was shaking at his side.

“Get away from me. I-” He took another ragged breath, “I need you to get away from me.” His voice was almost unsure, but his actions were not. He went into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

He rested his warm forehead against the cold tiles as the images flashed on in his mind.

_It isn’t real_. It isn’t real_. It wasn’t real._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny bonus chapter of the day! Can i get a whoop-whoop?! 
> 
> I know this is a bit angsty and all but I also really like how this chapter turned out.
> 
> Okay, see you soon. Have a nice day!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: 
> 
> Suicidal thoughts, MC remembering past trauma’s (not is super detailed or anything but still) and MC victim-blaming themselves for the past trauma’s. 
> 
> Take care of yourself. You matter <3

Although they were often close together, as could be expected for the small living quarters they shared, Larissa could feel that their minds were far apart. They both seemed to exist mostly in their own plane of thought, neither of them completely knowing how to deal with the other.

  
The bed was empty every morning. Whenever their paths would cross during the day Larissa made a point of nodding at him. He would nod back before adverted his eyes and passing her by.  
  


She didn't climb up the ladder to the top deck again and she had barely spoken a word to him since he had asked for space. She just wanted to respect his request.

In the meantime, Larissa tried her best to distract and numb herself by reading or helping out Anneke.

The somberness and anxiety Larissa felt radiating from Bucky caught up with her on the fifth day. Up until then her body had felt heavy and her mind felt slow. But something began to change slowly. The numbness was melting away.

That night she woke in a panic for the first time.

Despite the cool temperature of the room her skin was sticky when she woke gasping for air. It was almost as if someone had placed a stone upon her chest, causing her to struggle for oxygen. She got up and hurried into the bathroom, hoping she hadn’t woken Bucky, who was actually sleeping instead of wandering the halls at night.

Her bare feet tingled on the cool bathroom tiles. She studied herself in the mirror as she tried so hard to breathe like a normal person. The distraught person looking back at her wasn't someone she recognized. The back of her legs came in contact with the toilet lid as she sat down. She cradled her left arm into her chest and curled in on herself.

Her thoughts were moving so fast she could barely keep up with them The scenes replayed in her mind over and over again on a loop. All brought together by the feeling of complete helplessness. The same feeling she felt now.

_The gunshot rang through her ears. The sound of her mother’s body falling forward, hitting the damp ground.  
  
_

_Screams of pain, his body convulsing in the chair, the sound of electricity through the TL lights overhead. The stuffy smell that was so distinctive to a basement.  
  
_

_Feeling his breath fan over her face, his hands all over her body as the cot squeaked back and forth. Her pleas going unheard by him._

She tried to grab ahold of something within her, anything that could pull her thoughts back to safety. She couldn’t find it. She was hollow and yet the pain she felt was excruciating.

Her hand moved to wipe the tears from her face. It shook like a leaf before her eyes.

_Hands._ So much harm had been done to her by the hands of others. She still had the bruises to prove it, both mental and physical. Hands could give and take away. They would continue to do so as long as she was alive.

Her breathing slowed when a single thought made her reeling mind come to a stop.

Her fingers still trembled when she pushed the bathroom door open. She was too absorbed to notice the way light streamed into the room when she left the bathroom door open and she knelt in front of the backpack.  
  


She unzipped the bag and dug through the clothes with her uninjured arm until she felt the metal of the gun beneath her fingers. She pulled it out. The weight of it in her palm made her breathing start to pick up speed again.

  
A sob escaped when the reality of the situation hit her. She wanted the turmoil to stop but not like this. _Definitely not like this._

Her cheeks burned. Her curls fell into her face when she let her head fall forward. The cool metal burned in her palm now, feeling more like an acid that was seeping into her pores and melting away her skin.  
  


The gun fell onto the carpet with a dull thud.

She needed to get it away from her. Into the ocean, down the toilet, locked into one of the containers. Anything as long as she couldn’t get to it.

She bent down, picking the weapon up between two fingers, holding it far away from her body as she could. She turned around, facing the room. A jolt went through her when she saw Bucky throwing off the covers and coming towards her. His sudden movements caused her to drop the gun again.

If he had spoken, his words hadn’t reached her.

“Stop.” She cried, cowering away from him.

He stilled, gaze focused on her intently, and raised his hands slowly as if to try to reassure her of his intentions. He said nothing, as he stood there. His arm glinted in the warm light coming from the open bathroom door.

Larissa pressed her open hand against her chest, trying to calm her quivering breaths enough to talk. When words didn’t come to her she pushed the gun over the ground towards him with her foot.

“Take it,” she sobbed, “Keep it away from me. I can’t have it.”

With his hands still raised for her to see, he bent down, retrieving the gun slowly before he returned to his full height.

Larissa took a step back, her knees hitting the edge of the sofa before she let herself fall onto it.

Bucky’s footsteps moved away, back towards his bed before he went into the bathroom. The faucet turned on and off. She blinked open her eyes to see him coming back out with a glass of water in his flesh hand. She took it wordlessly, welcoming the coolness that the water brought to her raw throat as she took a sip.

He kneeled down, a few feet away, ruffling through the contents of her backpack. When his hand reappeared it was holding her library book. _A book she wouldn’t be able to return to her local library_. He held it out to her.

There was something like sympathy to be found in his usually stern gaze.

She took the book from him. The well-loved cover was soft between her fingertips. Its familiarity was comforting. A small sob escaped her as she felt the weird sense of reversed déjà vu from the moment she had given him a book back at the bank. That moment might have been what got them here in the first place.

He stood back up, watching her for a moment before he walked back to the bed. Without saying a word he laid down under the covers.  
  


She slowly sipped at the water. Her slowing breaths turned into hiccups. She sat back, trying to ease her body into the sofa.

The story distracted her until her eyes burned, raw from crying and the need to sleep. And someway somehow, that’s exactly what she did. She fell asleep, leaning against the armrest of the sofa, bound to feel her body ache from sleeping that position when she woke in the morning.

And boy did she ache.

She barely moved before she managed to succumb to sleep again, only waking slightly when Bucky left the room to get some breakfast.

It was only a while later, when the reverberations of a confident knock on the door pulled her from drifting somewhere between slumber and reality, that she sat up and stretched a little. She closed her eyes and rubbed her face, refusing to get up and answer the door. It couldn’t be Bucky. He had a key and would come in without knocking.

The knocking stopped. There was a brief moment of silence before she heard Anneke call out from the other side. “Is everything all right, dear? Are you feeling seasick?”

So far, Larissa’s daily schedule had been rather predictable. Anneke must have caught on that breaking that routine wasn’t like Larissa at all.  
  


“No, I’m fine.” Larissa’s voice was croaky from not being used yet today. She cringed and silently pleaded Anneke wouldn’t notice.

  
“Let me know if you need anything.”

  
Larissa listened as Anneke’s footsteps faded down the hall.

Larissa groaned, pulling herself together peeling herself up off of the sofa. Her eyes scanned over the sheets that were left haphazardly on the bed.

The messy bed faded away when her eyes filled with tears. At the forefront of her mind, it was replaced with the neatly made bed of her mother.

Every day for the last 11 years she’d slept in the same room as her mother. Space at the compound had been limited. Not long after her father passed, they had been made to share a room.

On most nights her mother hadn’t been there when Larissa went to bed. On many mornings she was gone before Larissa got up. Sometimes, when Larissa was young, the phantom of a kiss would rouse her slightly. No matter how short her nights were or how early she began, her mother always left her bed made.  
  


_A gunshot, her mother's body thumping onto the grass, the screams that came from her very own lungs._ All of it replayed in her mind, again and again. Round and round.

A sudden thought broke the loop.

_If she hadn’t cared so much, her mother wouldn’t have been killed._

  
Her mother had warned her. Alex had warned her. Even Brock had given her a fair warning. And still, Larissa had been absorbed in helping someone she didn’t even know. It had resulted in her mother's death.

Even her own rape had been preventable if she had just listened and done her job.  
  


_It was her own fault._  
  


Larissa’s skin itched and her body shook. She laid back down and pressed her palm against her eyes but the tears still spilled over, through her fingertips.  
  


She curled up into a ball but angrily rolled onto her back a few moments later. Nothing felt right, she couldn’t stop her body from shaking and everything hurt. Her soul was aching.  
  


A few hours past with her just staring up at the slats of the ceiling, unable to do anything else then rub her hand over her arm, trying to give herself some sort of comfort as the accusing thoughts spiraled. Horror at what she had done filled her more and more.  
  


When Bucky returned to the room in the late afternoon she didn’t have the energy to look up at him. She feared she would just burst into tears.  
  


She felt his eyes on her as he maneuvered around the room, but he didn’t say a word before he left again.

A few moments later he came back into the room, this time carrying a bowl of whatever Anneke had made for dinner. He placed it on the coffee table beside her and then got a glass of water from the bathroom and set it next to the bowl.

She glanced over at where he was standing, looking at her expectantly. She gave him a small nod of thanks but then turned around, curling back in on herself. She didn’t feel like she could eat.

“You need to eat,” he stated plainly, breaking the silence.

She shook her head and didn’t look back at him. Her finger traced the threaded over the loose threads of the sofa.

“You haven’t had anything today. You need to eat,” he repeated.

The tears pricked at her eyes, so she covered her face, not wanting him to see her like this. She couldn’t even get up out of bed. He probably was so done with her.

She heard him sigh. His footsteps moved away and the door of the room fell closed behind him when he left.

He must think she was pathetic. She wasn’t worth his time. She wasn’t worth anyone’s care after all she had caused.

Caring sucked. She despised herself for caring. It’s what had gotten her here. It’s what had made her cause her mother’s death and her own rape.

Caring left her alone on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic, miles and miles away from anything she had ever known. Caring left her gasping for air as her lungs constricted. Caring had caused her to pick up a gun the night before.

The door swung open and two sets of footsteps entered the room, but still, Larissa didn’t look up and kept her face covered with her arms.

“Ach meisje,” Anneke sighed, lapsing into her mother tongue. “What happened to you?”

Larissa’s sobs were now mere hiccups. She made no attempt at answering Anneke’s question. Her head hurt too much.

“You burden yourself by holding it in.” Anneke sat down at the end of the sofa, by Larissa’s feet.

Her hand was gently placed on Larissa’s side, making Larissa flinch but when she did nothing to remove the hand, Anneke began to slowly rub her back.  
  


The caring gesture was what sent her over again. “I can’t,” she whispered, succumbing back to the sadness that was overflowing from within.

Anneke sighed and leaned back beside her. “I have met many people over the years on this ship. Being able to listen to their stories and hardships is what makes all this worthwhile. Your story will be safe with me. I will not tell a single soul but it just might unburden yours.”

Larissa violently wiped at her cheeks, hating the way they glowed. She pushed herself to sit up, another sob bubbled up when she saw the way Anneke watched her.

Only patience filled her eyes. She mirrored a caring mother. Someone she could trust.

Larissa nodded reluctantly.

“Would you like him to leave?” Anneke asked carefully, nodding towards Bucky who leaning against the wall, watching the emotional exchange happening before him. When Anneke asked the question and he stood up straighter, ready to leave them in privacy.  
  


Larissa shook her head, brows lowered when her gaze crossed his. He stopped, looked back and forth between the two women before returning to where he had been standing, like a shadow in the corner of the room.

“He knows everything anyway,” Larissa added, adverting her eyes.  
  


Larissa kept to herself for a few moments, trying to gather the words she wanted to say in her mind. She wanted to hold onto a shred of dignity and didn't want the words to come tumbling from her lips like a waterfall.

She straightened her back, looking out past Bucky out through the porthole to the ocean. Her jaw was set as she clenched and unclenched her teeth.  
  


“I’m the reason my mother is dead. I killed her. It’s my fault she isn’t here anymore.”

Anneke’s hand stopped rubbing her back.

From her peripheral, Larissa caught the way Anneke looked up toward Bucky with a furrowed brow. He shook his head, disagreeing with what Larissa had just said. Anneke softened her worried gaze.  
  


“She didn’t do it.” Bucky’s words were soft.

“Who did?”

“It was someone I worked for,” Larissa explained with a fragile voice. “But I was the one who caused the chaos that led to her death, that led to my boss to-“ The painful memory of the vault ceiling flashed before her eyes, “-hurt me.” She swallowed hard. “It’s all because of me. All because I cared too much and couldn’t keep myself from nosing around. They fucking warned me.”

"Well, why did you care?"  
  


Larissa's furrowed her brows. _How could she not have cared? How could she have chosen to look away?  
  
_

"You seem like a smart girl," Anneke elaborated. "You knew there was a risk and still you cared and acted. Why?"

"Caring wasn't a choice. The things that were happening weren't right. I couldn't live with myself knowing about it and choosing to do nothing."  
  


“So you stood up for what you believed was right,” Anneke mused. “It wasn’t your decision to kill your mother. Your boss made terrible choices but you cannot control the choices of another, only those of yourself. It was not your fault.”

Larissa shrugged, hiding her face behind her hand again as she began to massage her temple with her thumb.

“It may take time for you to see it,” Anneke carried on, ”but that is not odd. You are grieving and afraid but I believe you will make it through this. Caring for others is beautiful. It only testifies to your good character, yes?”

Anneke patted her back gently and stood up. “I’ll go get you an ibuprofen. You must have a headache after all that you have been through.”

Anneke left the room as Larissa reached for the kleenex box off of the table and blew her nose. She let out a heavy sigh.

It was as if the pressure inside of her released through her exhalation, leaving her feeling little lighter than she had felt before. She still felt tired and sad but lighter nonetheless.  
  


Her eyes trailed up to where Bucky was standing, still watching her intently. It took Larissa by surprise that he had decided to stick around while she bawled her eyes out. He didn’t strike her as someone who took the time to listen to bouts of strong emotion.  
  


Another wave of guilt passed through her.  
  


“I’m sorry you have to deal with me. I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to leave once we make it to Gdansk. You’ve done so much for me. I'm forever grateful for your help.”  
  


She didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay with her. He may not be a free man yet but he was free to go and do as he pleased.

He sighed and was quiet a moment before answering. "We’ve gotten this far. I might as well make sure you actually get there."

Larissa shook her head, "You don’t have to feel responsible for me."

"Look," he said heavily, "I'm making my own choice. Let me have this.”

"I’m just saying that you don’t have to come with me. You can choose to go where ever you want."

"Well, I’m choosing to be here, so…" His sentence faded out as the door to our room opened again. Anneke had returned with an ibuprofen and a warm bowl of food since the one Bucky had brought had gone cold by now.

Larissa thanked Anneke for her kindness. Anneke left to go do her chores but not before making Larissa promise to come by and check out her book collection soon.

Larissa ate the steaming bowl of stew quietly.

It was hard for her to envision a place and time where she would finally be safe. It was impossible to know when and if Hydra had stopped following them.  
  


She knew that she was a thorn in Brock‘s eye. He hated her but she couldn’t possibly be a top priority to him now that SHIELD had collapsed.

Bucky, on the other hand, had to be crucial to them. Hydra would do anything to get their beloved winter soldier back. Even just as an attempt to survive now that they had been exposed to the world.  
  


Even now, while looking out at the vast expanse of the ocean through the porthole, Larissa felt the cold shiver of dread slither down her spine at the thought of Brock tailing them.

Brock was many things and persistent was most definitely one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the ‘learning-to-not-blame-yourself-for-the shit-you-can’t-control’ club. I’m your host, tinytofuturtle. 
> 
> Sometimes I feel like I made Bucky too ‘nice’ in this fic. But he’s just trying and she’s one of the only things he has to hold onto right now. Also, can you imagine how weird it must be to NOT have a mission after being controlled for as long as he has? She’s his mission for the time being. 
> 
> As someone who personally doesn’t really need trigger warnings I find it a bit difficult to know exactly where to draw the line. This fic isn’t super explicit (yet) but I also don’t want to be triggering to anyone. If you ever see something in a chapter that isn’t tagged with a trigger warning but should be, please let me know.
> 
> I hope you all are well. Have a nice day!


	24. Chapter 24

Even from within the little bathroom he could hear the thunder rolling outside. He held on to the toilet bowl and pressed his other palm up against the wall. The constant shifting gravity was doing nothing to help his nausea.

The ocean had been calm and polite to them so far, but tonight….was a different story. He threw up again.

He hung over the toilet a little longer, making sure his nausea had subsided a little before he flushed and got up, carefully turning to the sink to splash his face and rinse his mouth. Another sudden shift in gravity made the water splash up more than he had intended, causing it to drip down his chest and onto the floor.

It didn’t matter. He was already soaked anyway and his sopping wet shirt was already on the floor.

A dull thump and a curse from the other room let him know that Larrisa had finally woken up. _Or had been rolled from her sofa._ Either way, it had taken her long enough.

He had been amazed she was still sleeping undisturbed by the storm when he had stumbled back into the room earlier. But he was also glad she hadn’t been there to see the state he was in, drenched to the bone and fully armed with no memory of how he had gotten outside.

When he heard her begin to stumble her way over to the bathroom, he quickly pushed his weapons and ammunition into the corner with his foot and covered them with his shirt.

He caught her off guard when he opened the door right when she had been ready to knock. She let out a little ‘oh”. He couldn’t tell if she was surprised because he had opened the door or if she was surprised he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her gaze lingered on his shoulder, where his skin met metal, before she looked up to his face. When the gravity began shifting again, she quickly clung to the doorframe to stop herself from falling.

“It’s been storming like this for a long time. How are you only now awake?"

“Deep sleeper, I guess,” she muttered.

A flash of lightning drew his eyes out past her to the room. The covers hung off the side of the bed and fluttered as the ship rocked back and forth in the waves. It reminded him that he hadn’t slept at all yet that night.

The room fell back into darkness leaving the two of them illuminated by the overhead light of the bathroom.

Her frizzled hair that fell into her eyes didn’t hide the way her eyebrows creased as she took him in.

He knew he looked like a mess and he wasn’t planning on hiding it. He blinked his eyes closed, curling in on himself slightly when another wave of nausea hit him.

A shout, from somewhere above them on deck, broke through the static of the waves. He immediately straightened and squared his shoulders, eyes flicking to the door in high alert.

“It’s just a storm,” he mumbled, still trying to convince himself that nothing else was amiss. “I went out to check.”

She gawked back at him, eyes wide. “You went out there?”  
  


He sighed trying to think of a way to explain his drenched, shirtless, nauseous self. “I needed some air. It’s better to be out on deck if you feel seasick.”

“Not in the middle of a storm!”

He just shrugged, his eyes went back to rest on the floor. His metal arm darted out to hold the other side of the doorframe when the boat tilted further to the one side.

He was glad when Larissa tiptoed back to the sofa after asking if he was okay and if she could get anything for him. He sunk down against the wall by the toilet again.   
  


He still felt queasy. Stomach acid burned at the back of his throat. He couldn’t quite understand the grogginess that was making him feel even more anxious than he already was. His muscles so were tight it was beginning to hurt.

His memories were fuzzy and blurred together by the darkness of the night and the crashing sounds of the ocean. He checked the time on her phone, which lay in the corner by his weapons. The screen showed it was 3:36 before the battery died. He could see himself in the reflection of the now black screen.  
  


He closed his eyes thinking back to how he had ‘awoken’ outside, perched on one of the containers, fully armed, soaked to the bone and cold to the core. A familiar feeling, somehow. His whole body felt weak and numb. He almost had fallen trying to climb down from the odd vantage point.

_Had someone taking control of him? Or had his own fucked up brain made him do this to himself?_

His eyes burned for him to rest them. This was going to be a long night, but he would be damned if someone tried to ambushed him knowing that he had been weakened. He much rather stay holed up in the bathroom, listening and waiting as the hours of the night ticked by while he clung onto the toilet with his one hand and held onto his gun with the other.

**________________________________**

Larissa had never seen a bigger collection of Nicolas Sparks books in her life. An entire portion of Anneke’s bookcase was dedicated to the author. She honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Anneke had them all.  
  


Before Larissa could mention that romance books weren’t really her thing, a well-loved copy of 'The Notebook' was pressed into her hands. Anneke seemed excited to share her favorite book with someone who hadn’t read it yet so Larissa figured she’d give it a try, even if it was only to please the woman who now had begun bubbling on excitedly about her love for the author.  
  


“Some of the movies just don’t quite do the books justice but I’ve watched them all many times anyway,” Anneke chuckled. She looked down on her watch. “I need to get going but you can stay here and read if you like. I can make you some tea.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble-.”

“Of course!”

  
She was just about to follow Anneke to the little kitchenette area of their room when a familiar title caught her eye.

  
“May I take a book for him? I used to love this one when I was a kid.”

“Oh, yes of course. Take as many books as you would like. As long as they get put back I do not mind.”  
  


Larissa pulled the copy of ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ from the row. Even though the ocean and wind had calmed, she had found him sleeping in the bathroom that morning. She knew he could use a distraction but she wouldn’t bombard him with it. She would just leave it on his bed.

She spent the afternoon reading in Anneke’s livingroom. It was nice to be somewhere other than the cabin the deck or the cafeteria. The sound of the crew and the ship seemed to be further away here, giving the room a calming atmosphere.  
  


It was halfway through the afternoon when Larissa separated herself from the surprisingly enjoyable book and decided to go take a shower before dinnertime.

She carefully descended the steps to the cafeteria, keeping the two books tightly pressed to her chest with her good arm. The cafeteria was mostly empty, except for a small group of men that were playing a card game in the far corner by the hall to her room.

  
She was almost to the hall when one of the men called out to her.

“Hey! Aren’t you the girl that is rooming with Tinman?”  
  


She stopped in her tracks and looked at them skeptically. “Why do you ask?”

“There are so many men on this boat. Why do you sleep with him?”

“Oh,” she stammered, “we’re not-“

Her sentence died in her throat when one of the men stood up and started to take a few steps closer to her. She took a step back and looked around the cafeteria hoping to find someone else there, anyone, that would be keeping an eye on the situation. There was no one.  
  


Her eyes darted to the hallway but the men were between her and the entrance. She took her eyes off of the man to look toward the stairs going back up to deck but looked back at the man when he advanced towards her more quickly.

“He’s a bit odd. It’s like the lights burning but no body’s home," he said tapping his temple to emphasize his words.   
  


Larissa stayed silent, not knowing what to say or do as her breaths became shallower.

The guy took that moment to look her up and down. A small smirk formed on his lips.

_He was checking her out._ _She needed to get out of here._

“You could do better than him.”

She moved past him, heading back in the direction of the stairs to the deck.  
  


“Where are you going?” He grabbed her right bicep, keeping her from leaving and yanking her body to turn toward him. She winced as the movement disturbed her collarbone. His smirk had morphed into a sick smile. “I can show you what you’re missing out on.”

Her body was going into full panic mode now. He was blocking her escape and holding her in place. She wanted to scream for help, or cry or kick him in the balls. Anything to get away, but she couldn’t. Her whole body felt completely numb.  
  


The men hollered at the remark but it all seemed far off, muffled and faded into the distance. All she could hear was her own heartbeat thumping in her ears.

When the guy turned, laughing at his buddies, something snapped her back into action. A burst of adrenaline overtook her as she yanked her arm free. The books she was holding clattered to the ground in the process.

It was futile. Two firm hands pressed her up against the wall by her shoulders, causing her to cry out in pain.  
  


“Stop.” Her voice was soft but clear. Tears were now brimming in her eyes, making her vision go blurry.

He leaned in closer, ignoring her plea completely. “I can add to the collection of hickeys you've got going on there.”.

A low voice moved the attention of the men across the room. “Get off of her.”

Over the man’s shoulder she could see Bucky standing a few meters away, fists clenched and head low. His eyes were piercing and dark. A darkness she hadn't seen since Brock had sent Bucky onto her.   
  


The dude who was holding her down obviously didn’t see that same darkness because when he looked over his shoulder he turned back to Larissa completely unbothered. “Oh, it’s just him. I guess he wants to join the party.”

He turned to his buddies, “He won’t do anything. Hanz said he saw him wandering around outside last night, said that the dude looked completely out of it.”

His friends laughed.

“She likes this shit, you know?” her assaulter said turning to look over his shoulder at Bucky again. “Have you seen those bruises?”

The man’s hands immediately dropped away from her when Bucky started to cross the room. He took a step away from her and held his hands up in defense.

“Woah, man. We’re just joking around. It was a joke, wasn’t it?” He looked at the other guys who were sitting around the table for reassurance. They all avoided his gaze, not wanting to be pulled into this.  
  


Keeping her hand on the wall to guide her, Larissa used this moment to make her way to the hall, gasping for air. She needed to get out of there, pronto.

She heard Bucky scoff at the man before he closed the gap between the two of them and rammed him up against the wall.

Larissa jumped at the sudden movement, that had brought them too close for comfort. She backed into the hall just after hearing the way the man squeaked when Bucky lifted him off of the floor.

The sound that Bucky’s arm made… If she didn’t know better she would think he was drilling him into the wall. It reminded her too much of the basement and choking and Brock and-

Her assaulter's heels thumped against the wall until Bucky dropped him, letting him fall to the ground. She turned and dashed towards their room.

**________________________________**

Larissa was still trying to slow her breathing when the room door clicked shut softly a few minutes later.

_What was she doing to ask for this?_ She tried to be a kind person. She tried to do her best to trust others. But they betrayed her. And hurt her. And didn’t listen to her when she told them to stop.

She heard his heavy steps carry in her direction and stop in the door opening behind her.   
  


She felt ashamed that the sound alone made her want to cower away.

What if he was like all of the rest of them? Or what if he snapped back into a person that wouldn’t or couldn’t recognize her? Then he would definitely be like all the rest. She wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him.

Looked at him through the mirror.

It confused her. She couldn’t understand why he’d want to stick around but she couldn’t bring herself to ask him again, knowing she could possibly get a different answer this time. She wondered when he was going to decide that she wasn't worth the effort.

“Are these yours?” he asked holding up the two books she was borrowing from Anneke. He must have scooped them up off of the floor after he dealt with the man.  
  


She nodded.

He held him out to her but she only took the Nicolas Sparks book from him, leaving the other in his hand.

“That one’s for you.” She didn’t care to elaborate any further. Confessing that it was one of her childhood favorites wasn’t something she felt like she could do right now. Not when the little girl inside of her felt like she had been stomped on by a boot. _Again._

  
Larissa pushed past him into the room and laid on down the sofa, eyes staring straight up at the ceiling.

Her thoughts were full of animosity toward herself and at the same time full of disbelief at how fucked up the world was.

Anyone anywhere could hurt her. And she was starting to think that that was what she deserved.

When she thought back to that moment later on, she realized that the only reason she fell into a deep sleep was because of the sound of Bucky flipping the pages of his new book every so often. Something in the simplicity and safety of that was calming enough to lull her to sleep.

**________________________________**

The shift that happened overnight was noticeable the next morning when Larissa woke up.   
  


She was confused, her neck hurt and she was painfully aware of a dull ache that radiated out of her shoulder more then it had been in the past few days. But the thing that really stumped her was the fact that Bucky was still in the room.   
  


Out of the 11 days that they had been on the ship, he had still been in the room when she woke on one occasion. And that had been the day before when she had found him passed out in the bathroom leaning up against the toilet. Other than that he had been up and out every day before she was really awake.

She felt as if she was reading too much into it but she couldn’t help herself. He was sitting legs crossed against the wall on his bed, reading in what seemed to be the last quarter of the book, for Pete's sake.  
  


Larissa stretched and yawned before sitting up and pushing the blanket off of herself.

His eyes flicked over to her before going back to his book.   
  


Her stomach grumbled embarrassingly loud, reminding her that she had slept through dinner last night. Not that she could have eaten even if she had been awake. She probably would have puked again if she had tried. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to think of anything but that man, and Brock and her mother and Alex and-

Bucky promptly closed the book and stood up. “You coming?”   
  


“What?”   
  


"Breakfast," he stated as he grabbed his jacket.  
  


_Had he waited to have breakfast with her?_

“You have to be more naïve then I thought to think I’m going to let you walk around alone after what happened yesterday,” he said as he walked to the door, opening it with his metal hand.

It fell shut behind him, leaving her stunned.

“Wait, _what_?” She grabbed her sweatshirt and hurried after him to the cafeteria.   
  


"Does this mean that you are going to be following me around all day?"  
  


He shrugged. "Maybe it means that you are going to follow _me_ around all day."  
  


"Well, you care more about my wellbeing then I thought if you’re planning on spending the whole day with me," she said grabbing a plate and filling it with porridge and fruit.

Larissa turned to the room, semi-full of men eating breakfast and chatting amongst themselves. A shiver went down her spine. She didn’t want to be here.

"Come on," Bucky said, not turning back to see if she was actually following him up the stairs to the deck.

Larissa followed him into the fresh morning sun. The gentle breeze flowed around her and licked at still tangled hair.   
  


She watched him climb up the ladder to the small upper deck. She wasn’t going to be able to get up there with one arm still in a sling and the other holding her plate.  
  


He turned and reached back down for her plate of food, taking it without a word.   
  


They sat together on the floor of the upper deck, eating their breakfast in silence, a few meters apart. The water was calm and reflected the morning sun into her face, causing Larissa to squint her eyes.

“I thought you wanted space,” she said softly. “Now I can’t help but wonder why you would go out of your way to hang out around me all day.”

“Of course you are,” he sighed rolling his eyes.

“It’s a valid question_, right?”_  
  


“It doesn’t matter. And yes, I still want space.”

“But now you want be to followed around the whole day. So much for space,” she retorted.

He leaned forward, hanging his flesh arm over the bottom bar of the fence, ignoring her remark.

“That guy, from the cafeteria. You didn’t kill him, right?”

Bucky shook his head. “He won’t bother you again, though.”

  
She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to just enjoy the feeling of the sun on her face for a while instead of thinking about her mother, or Brock or what had happened in the cafeteria yesterday-

_Like what had that guy even meant when he said someone had seen Bucky wandering around outside looking completely out of it__?_ When she had found him in the bathroom he definitely looked bad but he was alert and acting pretty normal, save the seasickness and all.

“Bucky, what was that guy talking about? About you walking around that night-”  
  


“I’m not going to be able to watch out for you if you keep asking me questions,” he grumbled.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” she said with a nod. “Just know that you can tell me stuff if you want to.”  
  


He let out a deep sigh. She thought he had decided to ignore her again until he suddenly spoke.

  
“I’m just trying to figuring it all out.” His eyes flitted over to her for a second before they looked back out over the water.

“I know and that’s okay.”

Silence fell between them.

“Okay, one last question-“

He rolled his eyes and let out a huff.

“Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“A new start,” she whispered. She dreading thinking about leaving the routine of the ship and heading into the unknown. “Anneke told me we should be docking in Gdansk tomorrow.”

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “Are you ready?”

“Fuck no”

She smiled when she saw the way the corners of his mouth turned up at the brashness of her answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know you’re a pro writer when your spell check doesn’t even know what you are trying to say. I found ‘nausea’ spelled 4 different (and very wrong) ways while i was editing. 
> 
> Also, I’ve never read or seen ‘The Notebook’. It’s on Netflix where I live so maybe it’s time I finally watch it lol XD
> 
> I hope you all are well! Take care and stay safe.


	25. Chapter 25

After stocking up on food at a little grocery store they ordered coffee and sat down in the back corner of the café. They had everything they needed to make it to Bucharest. Except for a plan on how to get there unnoticed, that is.  
  


Bucky wanted to drive, which Larissa was fine with except for the fact that he would have to steal a car, since renting seemed to be a bad idea. She couldn’t be part of that. Especially if there were other options that were perfectly legal, like the train for instance.

“Look,” she turned her phone so he could see what she was pointing at on the screen. “There’s a train station 10 minutes from here.”

She opened the website and began looking for tickets that would bring them in the right direction, happy to have been able to load her phone with one of Anneke's chargers before they left the ship. It had been harder than expected to say goodbye to her.  
  


“We can’t.”

Larissa looked up, starting to feel a bit annoyed. “Why not?”  
  


“Too risky.” He pulled his cap down a bit further, his eyes were just visible from under the rim. He looked around the café, again. “We need to stay off the radar and keep moving. We should be going soon.”  
  


“You know we’d be on their radar if we get arrested for stealing cars, right?”

He didn’t have much to say to that. He definitely would be able to get away if the police tried to arrest him. She wouldn’t be so lucky.

“We’ve been here too long," he grumbled.

“We’ve been here for 5 minutes. Just let me finish my coffee. I need to look something up before we go.”

She wanted to preserve her battery as much as she could but her curiosity and anxiety were nagging at her. _She needed to know._

Within a few minutes, she had thousands of search results. News headlines, summarizing the events in the days after the 'Battle of the Triskelion'. Names of people involved with Hydra's elaborate scheme. But most importantly of all, a magnitude of info had been leaked online. Like everything. Pictures, names, operations. From the looks of it, lots of people online took great joy in trying to crack the encrypted files.

She held her phone out towards Bucky. He looked a bit startled from her suddenly holding something so close to his face but his face went serious again. His eyebrow's furrowed.

“They blew the whole thing open,” she said with a smile. Finally, Hydra could be held accountable for what they had been doing for decades. “Everything is on the internet-“

Bucky’s eyes widened. He grabbed her phone out of her hand, staring at it and narrowing his eyes before he crushed it in the palm of his metal hand.

  
  


Larissa’s jaw dropped in outrage. “What the fuck? That’s my phone! What the hell'd you do that for!”

He ignored her and picked through the remains of her phone with his finger. Glass from her screen fell onto the table as he pried open the back part of her phone.

“No answer, really?”

He pulled out the battery, flipping it over in his hand before sighing and holding it up for her to see. A small green disk stood out against the black sleek material.   
  


Larissa was stunned to silence as she took in what this meant for them.  
  


“Grab your stuff.”  
  


“Good god. Is that what I think it is?” she whispered, swallowing hard.

He stood up, wiping his face with his hands. He looked exhausted. “They're tracking you.”   
  


“How did that even get there?” Larissa’s breaths shortened. She raked her hand into her messy curls and leaned back in her chair as tears welled up in her eyes. _Had they been tracking her through this all along?_

She turned back to him suddenly. "Squash it!" She exclaimed when she saw that he was still examining it.

"They’ll know if we disable it.” He got up and scanned the café again. “Stay here. I’m going to plant it on someone outside.”

Larissa began to panic as she watched him leave. Her phone had had a battery for the past few hours now. If the tracker was using the battery as an energy source that was still more then enough time for them to be on their way. _They could be here by now_. Her chest started to feel tight, she tried to take in big gulps of air. She breathed into her cupped hands hoping that hearing her breath would slow it down enough so she didn’t pass out.

Bucky entered the café again and grabbed the backpack off of the chair beside her. He pulled Alex’s gun out of the front pocket. His broad back blocking her off from the rest of the café, making sure no one could see what was going on.  
  


He held it out towards her with an impatient look on his face. She took it unwillingly but tucked it quickly into the bulky white fabric of her sling, wanting to hide the weapon away before anyone could see.

Larissa followed Bucky out of the café and into the bustling city center. The transition back out into the bright sunshine made her squint.   
  


"We should just take a train and get out of here," she said pointing at a sign directing to the train station. He reluctantly grumbled something in agreement and we followed the signs until the red brick building of the train station was in view.

Him agreeing with her made her uneasiness grow. The risk of being recognized on the train was less of a threat then staying long enough to find a car to steal. _He knew they were coming._

It got busier the closer they got to the station. The sounds and people around her were causing her head to pound and her skin to crawl. Anyone of these people could be there to hurt them. Anyone of them could want her dead. Larissa tried to muffle the noise so she could stay alert, covered her right ear with her hand, wishing she could do the same with the other.

Someone bumped into Bucky causing him to shove up against her side. When he turned to see who had bumped him the crowd had already swallowed the hurried pedestrian.

They were close to the train schedule boards when Bucky began to slow down a few steps behind her.

“We need to get tickets. You coming?” Larissa asked, turning around. Her eyes grew wide when she took him in.  
  


He was blinking fast, widening his eyes as if he was trying to keep himself awake. He seemed to almost lose balance and slumped forward, hands on his thighs.

“What’s going on?” Larissa was at his side within a second, trying to push away the irritation and flightiness she felt towards the business around her.

“Go,” he gasped.   
  


“What?“  
  


“Get out of here.”

She tried to stop him from falling but she was too late. He fell onto the sidewalk as if he was top-heavy. Larissa cursed and got down on the ground beside him, quickly taking note of the fact that he was still breathing but was completely unconscious. His eyes were drooped closed and cheek smooshed into the brick road. She began tapping his cheek to try to wake him. When his head lolled to the side she saw a small needle and tube that stuck out of his neck.

Larissa was on her feet within a second and scanned the crowd around her, scrambling to get her mind to focus.   
  


Then she saw them. Two men dressed in black gear were making their way over to them. Their eyes caught hers.

  
Larissa turned and ran for her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, Larissa and Bucky don’t get a break……yet.
> 
> 100 freaking kudos and over 2000 freaking hits. DUUUUDE THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT. As a 'closeted' writer, I cannot express how much it means that you all have been reading and taking the time to leave kudos and comments. It warms my heart :)
> 
> I took a mini (but much needed) break from editing for this story. With CampNano coming up I’ll hopefully get a good bit closer to the ending.
> 
> (I also had a new idea for a Steve Rogers fic and i'm honestly so excited to start writing something new again)
> 
> I hope you all are well. 2020 has been something else. It seems like every month the world shows how ugly and messed it can be and beautiful it is when we come together in the name of equality and love. Stay safe, take care of yourselves and be nice to people. <3


	26. Chapter 26

Her ‘not-so-white’ converse were not her first choice of running shoes. Her feet hit the brick sidewalk hard as she pushed herself to get through the crowd and away from the men as fast as possible. When there was an opening in the people she dared to look over her shoulder. One of the men had now stopped near Bucky, the other pursued her.  
  


She cursed under her breath, hating herself for leaving Bucky after all he had done to get her this far. The most she could do now was make sure his efforts weren’t in vain and then find a way to reach out to Steve for help.

Her airways were starting to sting while her brain was fighting to process the world around her. She had no clue where she was going. Brick buildings she would usually stop to admire flew past her as she reentered the city center.

The light at a crosswalk turned red right before she could cross. Cars drove past, too fast for her to slip between. She began pushing the button for the crosswalk light like a crazy person while she looked back over her shoulder. The man was gaining on her but seemed to have more trouble slipping through the crowd than she did. When the light turned green she took off across the road and dashed into an alley, hoping it would shake him off but not staying around long enough to find out. The alley exited into a shopping street.

She pushed herself to go faster, but her muscles burned and a sharp stitch had begun to form in her side. She wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer.

She dashed into another alleyway on the other side. The street she ended up in seemed to be a calm residential area with tall houses on each side of the road. She crossed the street and ducked behind a parked car, gasping for air.

Her pursuer ran into the middle of the road a few seconds later looking around franticly trying to see where she had gone.

_This just might work._

"Shit, I don't see her. Block off the road behind the shopping street. She is here somewhere.” From her hiding spot, she could see him pacing as he talked with someone through his earpiece. He spoke English but with an accent that was clearly Slavic. "Good. She was getting tired. She won't be able to keep this up for long."

His pacing had brought him closer to her hidingplace. He was now standing on the other side of the car she was hiding behind. Larissa held her breath and made herself as small as possible.

_Shit, Shit, Shit._

His footsteps neared until suddenly his face peeked over the side of the car. "Gotcha."

She jumped up and sprinted away but her body hit the ground before she could she made it more than a few meters. She managed to scream out but his hand quickly clamped over her mouth, muffling her. His weight crushed her.

Panic rolled over her like a wave. She could barely breathe. The helplessness she felt was too much like Brock. The man sat down on her back, forcing her injured shoulder against the ground. She started crying. Her body was tired and so full of revulsion towards seeing Brock again.

The man spoke an address into the earpiece and a van pulled up a few minutes later.

It was only when Larissa was hoisted to her feet and pushed into the back of a van that she realized they had made a mistake. The gun inside her sling made a dull clank when she landed the carpeted floor in the back of the gutted out van.

It was enough to remind her that she still might have a chance. _Bucky deserved her to take that chance._

  
Bucky was lying on his back, still unconscious, on the floor beside her. His metal arm was sprawled out, his hand thumped on the floor when they went over a bump in the road.

The car came to a stop after driving close to an hour. As one of the men manhandled her out of the car she got a look at their surroundings for the first time.

The van they had just dragged her from was parked along a gravel path beside a run-down building. The boarded-up windows and vandalized outside showed that the building wasn't in use anymore. At least not for anything legal....

There were no other vehicles parked nearby. _Was anyone else here? Or was Brock still on his way?_  
  


The man who held her upright by door called out to someone inside to come to help them move the ‘Soldat’.

Larissa winced, not only at the use of word 'Soldat', but also because it was definitely going to be more than just those 2 guys. Another man came jogging to help drag Bucky out of the van as her captor guided her into the building.

She could tell that Bucky was still out by the sounds of dragging and the whining about how heavy he was she heard coming from a distance behind her. He needed to at least be conscious if they were going to have a chance at escaping.

Their footsteps echoed the dirty empty hall. When her captor pulled her around a corner, her eyes went wide as she took in the open room.

A simple white plastic garden chair stood proudly in the middle of the room surrounded by all too familiar machinery. It was too similar to her mother's tech to be a coincidence. Her heart clenched, all hope for trying to get them out of there went out the window (or the gaping hole in the ceiling). It wouldn't matter that Bucky was unconscious. Once they got him in that chair, he wouldn't remember her when he woke up.

Larissa was pushed down against a wall in the corner of the room. The man glared at her before he left quickly, presumably to help the others with dragging Bucky in.   
  


The room was silent, except for the cooing of pigeons that had gathered around the hole int the ceiling and the rustling of the grass that grew up between the cracks of the cement floor. No one else was there.

The sighs and shuffling from the hall came closer.

"Put him on the chair," one man said when they came into the room. "We've got to hurry and get this over with before he wakes up." The men grunted as they let him drop into the chair with a thump.

"Tom, have you figured out how do work this thing yet?" the man with the Slavic accent asked as he took off his jacket, revealing the gun he had holstered across his chest.

"Not quite,” Tom answered as he got busy behind the control panel. She took note of the fact that Tom spoke English without a European accent. “The instructions weren't too clear either. I don't even know if he knows how it works. Said he was sorry to miss seeing this for the first time.”

She narrowed her eyes. Brock may not have been much of a help when they wiped Bucky but he had been there many times. She dared to bet that he could get that machine up and running if he had to and could definitely explain how it worked to his thugs.

The third man spoke up. “Apparently the main scientists didn't make it out of the Triskillieon so it’s not like we have a reliable source to ‘ask’ if you know what I mean."

She bit her lip, trying not to cry. Her mother's death had been covered up by the ruble of the Triskelion. It was an easy lie.

"Have you at least connected it to the generator?"

"Oh, it's still in the van."

"I'll get it," the man third man said before he left the room. She couldn't help but notice that he was wearing a uniform, of some sort, partially covered by a jacket. _Security?_

The man with the Slavic accent looked over at her in the corner. Larissa hardened her face, staring at him angrily.   
  


"Come on, Tom. Look at her silently judging you in the corner," he chuckled. "I bet even she could figure out how this thing works."

"I bet she could. She's the daughter of Doctor Belmonte. I bet she knows what this thing does better than we do."

"Why don't we just make her do it then?"

Larissa sighed and shook her head in disgust.

Tom laughed, having seen Larissa's reaction. "And that's why we are not making her do it. For all I know, she’ll make sure this thing doesn’t work."

The Slavic man muttered something under his breath and walked around the panel to help Tom. Both of them had their backs to her. The third man still hadn't come back and Bucky was still unconscious in the chair. She didn't know if she would have a better chance than this.

She had reached into her sling and clicked the safety off of her gun when she heard footsteps in the hall.   
  


As the other man came in carrying the generator she recoiled her hand. She could feel her heart thumping in her throat.

"What took you so long?"

"Boss called asking for an update." He set the generator down on the ground next to the machine. "He has a list of words we need to say to him after we zap him. It's supposed to make him compliable or some shit. He sent me them-" He reached into his pocket and then the other one before he began patting himself down. "I put my phone down before I picked up the generator. I’ll be right back." The man left the room again.

One of the guys mumbled something about their companion being a dipshit.

THIS was her last chance. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, or well, as deep of a breath as she could take with a knot in her throat that felt like it was choking her.

She needed to do this. Bucky had just broken himself free from Hydra's hold, he didn't deserve to be hauled back. And she couldn’t go back to Brock. She’d rather die here

She gripped the gun in her clammy hand. Both men had their backs turned to her again as they hooked up the machine to the generator. She'd have to take the man with the chest holster down first and hope ‘Tom’ didn't have any weapons on him.

Larissa pulled the gun out from her sling, aimed, took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.   
  


The booming shot made the pigeons that were watching them from the hole in the roof fly away as her target fell to the ground screaming.

Despite her shaky hand and below-average aim, she had managed to hit him where she had intended to. He wouldn’t be able to draw his weapon with a bullet wound in his right shoulder.

Tom stood still, jaw dropped in horror before he surged into motion, scrambling to get to the button that would start up the machine, whilst trying to crouch down behind the control panel.

Larissa got to her feet and ran towards him, as the equipment lowered over Bucky’s face.

Tom stared straight at her and pushed the button. Electricity sizzled and Bucky's body tensed in the chair.

Tom took her moment of distraction to turn and run. A lucky shot on her part managed to send him to the ground where he withered into a ball and cupped his hands over the growing red spot right below his knee.

"Okay, okay, fuck-" She was hyperventilating now as she scrambled to the panel, searching for the safety stop. The layout of this machine was different than the one in D.C. but a bright red button could only be the same thing. She slammed her fist down on it.

The zapping stopped and the equipment retracted from Bucky’s face. She didn’t wait around to see if he was conscious now. Instead, she moved to wait right around from the hall, with her gun locked and loaded in her shaking hand as the rushed footsteps of their last captor echoed down the hall.

He was close.

He came running around the corner and dodging away from her in surprise when he saw her. Instead of running away her pushing himself off of the wall in her direction, lunging for the gun. She matched his movements pushing forward, causing his hands to miss the gun. He stilled when the barrel of the gun made contact with his throat.  
  


"Don’t move. Put your hands behind your head"

He chuckled and cocked his head, but did what she asked.

She put distance between them again, getting herself and her gun out of his reach. She took the moment to take a few deep breaths but did not look away from the man.

He stood up straighter and took her in, a small smile played on his lips. He looked over her shoulder at his two groaning companions on the floor. "I don’t think you’re actually going to shoot me," he said, challenging her.

"Get on your knees,” she whispered.

He cocked his brow but did what she had said.

"You can’t kill me."

Her eyebrows creased. “I have a gun in your face-"  
  


“But I don’t think you will kill me. By the looks like you shattered poor Tom's kneecap and you got Andrik right in the shoulder. You're lucky he doesn't have a high pain tolerance. If that was me I'd walk it off-"

"Fuck you, Gerald" Andrik grunted from the ground somewhere behind her.

"You don't shoot to kill. I don't think you wouldn’t be able to live with that."

She hardened her gaze, trying to stop her shaking hands. “Who do you work for?”

“Shoot me, bitch."

She set her jaw and slowly lowered the gun.  
  


A smile spread on his face. "That’s what I thought," he whispered cockily.

She took a deep breath and set her shoulders. "Think again,” she whispered before she pulled the trigger.

Larissa left him there on the ground, crying over the loss of his precious family jewels. She clicked the safety back into place and stumbled over to Bucky.   
  


The electricity had been on him for less than five seconds compared to the more than a few minutes that she had seen done to him before. She prayed those five seconds weren’t enough to do any damage. But he still sat there, passed out with his head leaning back.

"Come on! Wake up." She tapped his cheek lightly with her hand. She didn’t particularly want to touch him in case he didn’t remember her but didn’t see any other way.

  
With a sudden whirling of his arm, his metal fingers closed around her wrist. Larissa cried out as he used his grip on her arm to force her down to her knees next to the chair.

"You’re hurting me!" she cried out.

His hand retracted so fast, it was almost as if her skin had burned him. He looked around the room, taking the scene in for the first time. His eyes narrowed when he saw the bodies on the ground. "You did that?"

She looked over her shoulder. They were still alive, groaning in pain and mostly harmless except for the fact that the man that she had shot in the junk had begun dragging himself out into the hall.

Larissa turned back to him and nodded but then narrowed her eyes "You remember me, right?"

He nodded faintly.   
  


"Okay, well we need to leave. I don’t know if there are more people coming." She stood up and slowly took a step back not to startle him. His breath was still fast and high in his chest and she didn't want to spook him, even if it seemed that he hadn't been shocked long enough to do much memory damage. "We need to go now."

From the hallway, Larissa heard the man’s voice, mumbly and unsure.

"желание." (_Longing.)_   
  


Bucky bolted upright, his eyes went wild and wide, focussing on her with a gaze so accusing even she thought she had done something wrong.  
  


"ржавые." (_Rusted)_

He blinked rapidly, a shiver rolled through him as the arms of the chair cracked in his grip. The chair clattered to the ground behind him with force when he stood up and sprinted into the hallway.

Larissa followed him.   
  


"семнадцать." (_Seventeen.)_

The man sat slumped against the wall. Despite being wounded, he held his phone in his hand. His knuckles were so white it was as if he was holding onto a lifeline.

“рассвет- “(“_Daybreak_-“ )

She realized that it was his lifeline when the next word died in his mouth. Bucky grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the concrete wall. Her hand moved over her mouth to muffle her gasp.

The man cried out and the phone fell from his hand and skitted across the floor, stopping at her feet.

As Bucky heaved and the man choked for air, she picked up the phone, glancing over the words that had been sent in the most recent text message. The letters were gibberish to her but she recognized the language. _Russian_.

These words….One of the men had said they would make Bucky compliant. _Didn’t the memory zapping already serve that same purpose? How could words make him compliant?_

Two letters made up the senders name. _H.Z._ If the person that sent the words was their boss, then maybe they weren't working for Brock after all.

A chill ran down her spine. _Who were they working for then?_

The sound of coming from Bucky’s arm when he constricted his hand around the guy's throat tighter caused her to look back up at the scene. He had lifted the man off of the ground. The man’s feet kicked back and forth in the air until slowly they stopped. Bucky released the body.

Larissa stood there, nailed to the ground, eyes wide in fear. She let out a whoosh of breath when he turned to her, not quite sure if she should be fearing him and his anger as well.

With a shaky hand, she held the phone out to him. "You might want to take care of this."

He took it from her, eyes scanning over the text before flitting up to hers. The rage that filled his eyes made her take a few steps back until the wall prohibited her from going any further. She jumped when he smashed the phone against the wall next to her head.  
  


"Did you read them?"

Larissa swallowed hard and tried to lean as far away from him as possible.  
  


"Did you read them?" he shouted in her face, with eyes so firey it made her cry as she tried to gather herself enough to speak.

"I don’t speak Russian!" she managed to croak out. "I swear to god I couldn't even read them I wanted to!"   
  


He searched her eyes, before he finally stepped away from her, chest still heaving.

She gasped for air, tears tickling down her cheeks as she hurried outside, feeling the need to get away from him. The distance and the fresh air helped calm her as she tried to focus on the task at hand.

Larissa found her backpack and an assortment of Bucky's weapons in the back of the van. It was to her convenience that the van had been left unlocked. When she walked around to the driver seat she even spotted the keys still in the ignition.

She couldn't believe it. _These guys were noobs_. They had forgotten to check her for weapons and now had supplied their 'captives' with a getaway vehicle.

Seeing that Bucky hadn't followed her outside, she cautiously reentered the warehouse where she found him, sitting against the wall next to the body, knees folded tightly against his chest. Even from the doorway, she could tell that he was shaking. Her footsteps echoed down the hall but he didn’t look up.  
  


"Bucky, we need to go." She could still hear the men groaning in the other room How much longer would it be before help came? Was backup already on the way?

He blinked rapidly, his body tensed like he was trying to repress a shiver. He lifted his head off of the wall only to stare straight ahead of him, looking past her at the concrete wall.   
  


"Please, I don't know if there's back-up coming. They left the keys in the van, please come."   
  


He finally stood up and followed her outside without a word.  
  


"They left your weapons here," Larissa said motioning at the back of the van.

He placed his shaky palm on the back door only to close the door and walk around towards the driver seat. Now she knew how badly this had affected him. He was too shaken up to arm himself.

She hurried after him, reaching out slowly to block him from opening the door. "Please, let me drive."   
  


His shivering hand let go of the door handle. If he was upset about it he didn't protest. Instead, he walked around and slipped into the passenger seat without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I plan on having Larissa shoot someone in the dick in this chapter? Most definitely not but somehow it happened anyway.   
  
Thank you for stopping by! Have a nice day! :)


	27. Chapter 27

She managed to stop freaking out over the fact that she had shot a guy in the dick and make it onto the highway before Bucky’s gasping teeth chattering shiver and death grip on the door handle became too heartbreaking for her to bear. She knew how much panic attacks sucked and she wasn’t about to let him deal with this huddled in on himself, leaning away from her and staring out of the window like he was 3 seconds away from jumping out.

“Why are you pulling over?” he managed to gasp out the moment she veered the car off of the road.

She shushed him while she unbuckled and climbed into the back, digging into her backpack and pulling out her hoodie and the extra shirts they had bought for him at the second-hand store.

She pushed away the fear of how he might react and took charge. “Look at me,” she demanded when he refused to meet her eyes. “You are safe. I’m not going to hurt you. We’re getting out of here. Put these over yourself. Being warm will make you feel better.”

She placed the layers on his lap and hopped back into the driver’s seat. She turned on the radio with her good arm, knowing she wouldn’t be able to do so once she started driving. With a quick search, she was able to find a station that seemed to play soothing music.

She looked over at him again before she pulled back onto the highway. He still looked panicked but at least he was focussing on her. She gave him a curt nod.  
  


Slowly but surely his shivering stopped. Despite the fact that they were trying to put as much distance between them and their ex-captors, calm engulfed the car. The crease between his brows began to soften but she could still hear his shaky breaths. Instead of bothering him further with thinking about the situation she recalled a soothing memory that gave her comfort when she was panicking.

“I lived in D.C. when I was young,” she began. “My parents met each other there, got jobs together, married, bought an apartment and then had me. I don’t remember much of that time but I have a few memories that stick out. My dad was second-generation Italian-American and one thing I really really remember was Christmas, or his Christmas cooking to be exact. He was amazing in the kitchen, and not just with Italian cuisine. He loved to bake. I remember waking up on Christmas morning to the apartment smelling like baked goods and him putting the Christmas turkey in the oven. I remember eating dinner with family around the table."

"Where did you live after that?" he asked, settling under the clothes a little bit more.  
  


"A SHIELD compound, in the middle of nowhere in Russia. We moved there when I was 7. It's an odd place to grow up. Most people were from the US. There were rules about everything. I was one of the few kids there. We went to school and SHIELD had us in a training program. It felt like an honor. Just the thought that we were training to become the next generation of SHIELD employees, whether that was in the field or back in the US, was a big deal to us all. I thought that we were going to be serving our country, make a difference." She huffed. "Well, you know how that turned out."

"It wasn’t until I was moved back to D.C. when things started getting shady," she continued. "Or maybe I just wasn’t aware enough back in Russia. Living there for so long made things that weren't normal seem like they were normal. They were strict with us. We were just kids."

The soft voice singing from the radio filled the silence.  
  


“I’m glad we’re out of there,” she added with a nod. She could still say that with full honesty, despite all of the shit that had happened since she had left.

He made a soft sound in agreement.  
  


She followed signs towards Warschau, knowing it was at least in the general direction they were supposed to be heading. They had passed the city an hour ago but she didn’t want to wake Bucky, who had fallen asleep a while ago, to ask him for directions. She figured if she continued driving south they would be heading towards the Ukrainian border.

Larissa guessed that they were a little over 3 hours from the border when fuel started to get low. She pulled off of the highway by a small gas station. Bucky woke groggily when she killed the engine and got out to pump gas. He mumbled something about going to the bathroom before he reached for one of his guns, stashed it and got out.

She pulled her jacket closer around her as she waited for the tank to fill up. The nights were beginning to get cooler now that the hight of summer had passed. She hoped they would get to safety somewhere in Romania long before the temperatures began to fall any further. Bucharest was only a few days drive away, as long as they didn't run into any other complications.

Bucky returned to the van after going to the restroom. He wiped the sleep from his eyes. "I think- I can take over now."  
  


She nodded placed the gas pump back in the machine before she grabbed her backpack out of the trunk to pay. "Do you think Brock's still tracking my card?"

He was leaning up against the driver’s door. "Just use it. We’re going to have to ditch the van before the border anyway."

She looked back at him, confused. "Well, how are we going to cross it then?"

"We’re walking," he shrugged. "There’s security at the border. They check cars."

She had to let that sink in for a second and realized once again that she was damn grateful she wasn't here alone. "Are we going to cross tonight?"

He nodded.  
  


She quickly relieved herself in the restroom and tried not to think about what happened the last time she was in a gas station restroom. When she was done she stopped by the shop and bought some food, flashlights, a map and some tissues, to use as a toilet paper equivalent for during their ‘hike’.  
  


She returned to the van, carrying her purchases in a plastic bag and settled into the passenger’s seat, knowing she needed to get some sleep if she wanted to be able to keep up tonight. Once back on the highway she soon fell asleep to the sound of the radio and the gentle hum of the car.

Larissa woke when the road went bumpy and her head, that had been resting against the side of the car, began banging against it. Bucky drove the car off the side of a dark county road and parked the van in the tall grass. Once he turned off the motor it was quiet besides the rustling of the trees that began a few meters from where they were parked.

"How far are we?" she asked as she stretched and let out a yawn.

It was dark out, only one side of the sky was a little bit lighter with the last shimmer of light from where the sun had set.

"We passed the last village before the border."  
  


Larissa nodded and unbuckled, climbed into the back to grab her backpack. She took the things she had purchased at the gas station out of the plastic back and began stashing them into her already overfull backpack.

"You hungry?" She held up one of the packages of crackers she had bought. He glanced back and nodded so she tossed it to him.  
  


"I also bought two flashlights. Wasn't quite sure but I thought it might be a good thing to have just in case."

She picked her hoody up off of the seat divider, where Bucky had left it, and put her hoody and jacket on before settling down on the floor and opening a package of crackers of her own.

"You ready?" he asked a few moments later.  
  


She nodded, putting on the best brave face she could despite him not being able to see her facial expressions in the dark. The idea of going out into the cool night, walking for miles in the woods didn't sound very appealing but she was willing to do what she had to in order to get to safety.

They started their long journey through the woods. Bucky was few steps ahead of her, holding a flashlight to navigate the way through the underbrush.

While she had regretted wearing her converse shoes when running from those men in Gdansk, she resented it now. It only took ten minutes for the wet leaves to make her socks damp.

They walked for hours, mostly in silence but she didn’t mind that very much. It gave her the time to think. To let herself feel the anger and shame and disgust that would boil up in her whenever she thought of what Brock had done. To feel the deep sadness as she grieved for her mother. And the sucker-punching fear of what the next day would hold. She experienced her emotions quietly needing to have this moment for herself.

She was glad she had napped in the car but her brain was beginning to feel fuzzy and her muscles had begun to protest their midnight hike. "Can we stop and take a break? I need to sit for a second."

Bucky turned, shining his flashlight in her face before clicking it off, letting the dark of night surround them. He dropped the backpack to the ground between them and sat down on a nearby log. Larissa sat down against a tree and fished her water bottle out of the backpack.

"I have a question" She took a sip of water and handed Bucky the bottle. "How do you know that we're going in the right direction?"  
  


He scoffed under his breath. "You really question my abilities don’t you?"

“Sorry, I’m just generally an anxious person. It’s nothing personal."

"Can I ask another question?" she asked after a moment, knowing Bucky wasn't going to give any further answer to her previous question.

"You’ll just ask even if I say no," he mumbled.

She laughed under her breath before becoming serious again. She picked a chip in her nail as she tried to formulate her thoughts in a way that was least likely to trigger him. "Those words from the telephone. What are they for?"  
  


She was met with silence before he stood up and walked a few steps away. He was a silhouette in the darkness. He didn’t turn back towards her.  
  


"The break is over," he bit out, clicking on the flashlight again.

Larissa guessed that meant they were going back to walking in silence again.

________________________________

  
Larissa was dead on her feet when the forest around them started to become lighter. The inky night sky faded into a dark grey as an invisible sun rose behind the clouds.  
  


Bucky turned off the flashlight and glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was still following him. "We’re almost there," he assured her, with a nod.

“How could you know that? We’ve been walking for hours and haven’t seen a single thing that would indicate we are anywhere near civilization."  
  


"If I calculated the map right we’re getting close to a village."

She rolled her eyes and rubbed her temples, wishing the dull ache to go away. She closed her burning eyes for a bit but almost fell over a log. She was beginning to get annoyed by the fact that Bucky was still going strong a few meters ahead of her.

She let out a frustrated sigh. "I need another break."  
  


"We’re not taking another break."

"Okay, then I need to pee."  
  


He looked at her unamused. "Hurry up."

She walked a few meters away until she was behind a big tree and squatted. She did really need to pee but it also felt good to not be walking, even if it was for just a moment. She may have been trained by SHIELD for a little bit but she was no soldier.

She fished a tissue out of her pocket and wiped only to see a bloodstain on the white paper. Apparently mother nature didn’t think I was suffering enough.

She was always up to date on when her period would come but in all of this hecticness, it had totally caught her by surprise. She pulled her pants back up and walked back over to Bucky who was standing there looking rather impatient with the backpack slung over his shoulders.  
  


"You ready?" he asked, raising his one eyebrow.

“No, I need something from my backpack if you don’t mind." She walked around him to unzip it but he moved away from her.

“We’re probably 30 minutes out. We’ll get food and find a place to sleep. Stop whining and let's go."

  
She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at him. "I'm sorry that I’m not as in shape as you are. But for your information, I need a tampon out of the backpack unless you want me to bleed all over everything an leave a trail for Brock, and whoever else is after us, to follow us by. In that case, walk on my friend."  
  


That shut him up. Not many things could make guys uncomfortable as periods do. Bucky was no exception.  
  


"Well, at least I know that that fucking bastard didn’t get me pregnant," she bit out as she grabbed what she needed from the backpack and walked back behind the tree to finish her business.  
  


It felt like it took a lot longer than 30 minutes to get to the village, although that could have been because Larissa was so tired the trees began to sway. At the sight of the first house, she did her best to step up to walk next to Bucky.  
  


"Finally," she croaked out.  
  


The owner of the small bakery and grocery story was surprised when he saw them waiting there when he flipped over the sign in the window. Food had never tasted so good and having a chair under her butt had never felt so sweet as when they sat there in the small bakery eating the open-faced sandwiches the owner had assembled for them and freshly-baked cherry-filled piroshki's.

"I swear, This is the best food I have ever eaten in my entire life," she said with a mouth full.

She could barely keep her eyes open as she ate. She knew Bucky's pale face, dark circles and messy hair mirrored her own. They quickly ate and then found the town’s motel. The sun was climbing the sky when they finally made it into the room.

She managed to kick off her muddy shoes and damp socks and unclip her sling before she found her sleepshirt and went into the bathroom to get changed.

She walked back into the room and dumped her clothes on the bedside table. Bucky was sitting at the sofa unlacing his boots when she pulled open the covers and laid down, allowing her sore body melted into the bed. She didn't even remember turning around or anything. She fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

It was several hours later when she woke to the stabbing but expected pain in her lower abdomen and back. She cursed whoever decided periods should hurt while she tried to find a comfortable position, knowing she needed all rest she could get.  
  


She was snuggled back into the covers when Bucky let out a quiet sigh, before shifting. He got up from the sofa and sat down in front of it, pulling the blanket around himself and resting his head between his knees. She heard him inhaling and exhaling deeply.

Larissa turned to lay on her side, he straightened his back at the sound of her moving.

"Can't sleep?"

  
"I need to know-" He took a deep breath, "I asked you before but I need to know you don't know the words."  
  


She sat up, so she could see him better. "I promise you, I don't know the words. Nobody ever said when I was around. I don't know if that is something you can believe, which is understandable but this was the first time I've even heard about them."

He hummed and let out a deep breath. "I don't think they always used them on me."

“Some of the records I found were from before Brock was involved. He wasn’t the first person who ‘handled’ you for Hydra. I saw initials on the phone. Does H.Z. mean anything to you?”

He shook his head.

"What happens when they use the words?" Larissa asked again quietly, knowing that there was a fair chance it would upset him again. She needed to know what she was dealing with.

"I become completely under their control." He looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I do whatever they ask me to. There is nothing left of me when they say the words."

They both were silent for a moment.

"I’m sorry you had to almost go through that again." She shook her head and sighed. "The lengths they are going to, to try to get you back makes me more ashamed that I ever even was apart of it."

He nodded, staring ahead before his eyes flashed towards her and he stood up. "We should get going soon. I’m going to find a car."

She nodded faintly and pulled the blanket back over herself, to exhausted to object to him stealing. She got up not too much later when she realized that a warm shower would not only make her feel fresher, it would also hopefully help with her cramps.

She had just put her dirty clothes back on and was drying off her hair when Bucky came back.

"I found a car."

"By 'found' do you mean ‘stole’?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

She rolled her eyes and began lacing up her shoes. "Let's just hope the local authorities don't start following us. We don't need more people hunting us down then we already have.”

The radio sang softly as they flew down the highway. The street lights flew by. The darkness night made the car feel like a little safe space pod. She leaned against the door and imagined what the owner of the car was like. She hoped the person wouldn’t miss their car too much, or the glove compartment full of old 'Backstreet Boys' cd’s for that matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup buddies! Welcome back! It’s been a while since i’ve posted. Life just kind of got busy and I was a bit demotivated to edit for a little bit.  
(Also i’m like still working on college stuff because I do college online and can continue working during the summer. Shout out to all of the online students and students who still have school during the summer because of covid. Take a break. Do some self-care. Go outside. I’m rooting for us.)
> 
> We’ve come to the part of the story that has had the least amount of editing so far which means it takes a little bit more time for me to edit the chapters. I probably won’t be able to update weekly like I was but trust me, I’m not abandoning this story!
> 
> I really wanted to bring in the Winter Soldier trigger words and since Brock (and the Washington DC Hydra) doesn’t know the words i decided to bring ‘H.Z.’ into the mix for a second. I know canonically ‘H.Z.’ doesn’t come in until Civil War (because he really doesn’t have a motive to go after Bucky until after the battle of Sokovia) but bear with me XD 
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos! <3


	28. Chapter 28

Famished and exhausted, they found a restaurant just over the border Romania where they could eat and rest. Larissa seemed to recognize the restaurant that had an obnoxiously large yellow _‘M’_ out in front of the building. She had just finished her last french-fry before folding her good arm over the table, resting her head on it and closing her eyes. Bucky wasn’t allowing himself to slip into that same calm. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t stop himself from taking in every person. He had managed to eat some but the tension in his body was taking a toll on his appetite. If he let go and something happened… _They had the words now_. It would be game over for him.

Ever since he had heard those few words again, a headache that had been raging through his skull.

He stared down the man that had just entered sat down at a nearby table with a cup of coffee but the man seemed to be too busy with his beverage to notice Bucky’s murderous gaze. When Bucky decided that the man wasn’t a threat, he swept his gaze back through the room.

It was the news anchor that chatted away on the TV in the corner that caught his attention. More specifically the name that was being mentioned.

The Winter Soldier.

_Fuck._

“-a man, identified as the winters soldier is responsible for the murder of a polish police officer yesterday. Officials warn that this is a highly dangerous individual who was previously part of HYDRA-“

“What’s wrong?” Larissa perked up when she noticed he was focussed on something behind her. She turned around.

“-the way he murdered…” the man choked up and stumbled over his words, “with his bare hands. It was brutal.”

Larissa’s jaw dropped when she recognized the face of the man speaking as one of their captors.

“We’re lucky to be alive. He showed no mercy to Jakub. Jakub was an officer and a good man. He had a family. He did nothing to deserve this fate. I pray this vile monster will be caught and pay for what he has done to my friend.”

The man, Jakub, crawling around the corner. The way the words echoed in the empty hallway. The mere memory of them caused his icepick headache to flare again as a shiver ran over his skin.

“-okay? Bucky? Hey, can you hear me?” He blinked his eyes open, focusing on the worried woman that sat across from him before he flicked his gaze back up to the screen.

His hands tightened into fists when he saw the pictures and videos they had of him. Nothing from the past few days. Not a good close up, but enough footage for him to look familiar to anyone who took the time to look.

Larissa cursed, watching with wide eyes.

His chest heaved, he stood up. The employees of the restaurant didn’t seem to be paying attention to him or the news but they needed to go before anyone did notice. He grabbed the backpack off of the ground.

He found a car out back behind the McDonald’s in the quiet part of a parking lot out of view from the restaurant. Larissa’s eyes widened when he pulled out his knife and used it to wedge open the door far enough so he could unlock it from the inside with a stick he found by a nearby hedge. Once he had the door open, he knelt down beside the car and reached under the steering wheel, using one of his knives to unscrew the screws that held the plastic cover of the steering column in place.   
  


“Where did you learn to hotwire a car?” she asked with a yawn once he had removed the cover and got to work on the wires. “Can't imagine Hydra though it was worth their time to teach you this.”

The question made him pause for a moment. “I don’t know.” It annoyed him that she was asking questions he didn't know the answer to.

Nevertheless, he assumed she was right. This talent must have been from his past life. His life before Hyrda. That is, if he even had a life before Hydra. Not being able to find anything in the vast darkness of his past scared him more than he wanted to admit.

The soldier never felt fear but now it seemed omnipresent.

He went back to fidget with the wires under the steering wheel until the car started and he sat down in the driver’s seat.

  
Larissa put the backpack in the backseat and got into the passenger’s seat. She reclined the chair and got comfy as he peeled out of the lot and out of the town.

For a long time she slept, but he didn’t mind the silence.

“Those guys, that they were interviewing on the news,” she said after waking a few hours later, “They didn’t look like that when we left them.” He too had noticed the guy's black eye. “Someone wasn't happy about how we got away from them.”  
  


He hummed in response.  
  


“That man," she sighed, "the one who, you know... He was a cop. Taking this to the news is the perfect way to make the search for you more of a priority. They turned the whole situation around. I shouldn't have taunted them. It's my fault that they're pissed.”

Bucky let out a low huff and didn't take his eyes off of the road. "That’s not true and you know it.”

"Well, I feel guilty. I honestly can believe I shot a guy in the dick. I guess it makes me feel a bit better that he didn't have to live with it for very long but-“

Bang and burst of air, the car became bumpier and began to slow. In the passenger seat Larissa jumped at the sudden noise and turned to look back. He gripped the steering wheel tighter when the car began to pull to the right. “Shit.” He didn’t have to look to know what had happened. “Tire blowout.”  
  


Upon checking the tire he discovered that it wasn’t that crazy that it had ruptured. The tire profile had been worn down and of course, the beat-up car didn’t have a spare. He cursed under his breath for choosing this car before he straightened and looked back. They were in the middle of nowhere and there wasn’t a single car in sight. It was at least another hour drive to Bucharest.

“So it’s either back to walking or waiting here until someone drives by and happens to have a spare?” Larissa asked with a hesitant look on her face.

He nodded and turned taking a few steps away, threading his hand into his hair. _Why hadn’t he checked the tired before he hotwired this car? _Fucking stupid.

“Hey, look! Someone’s coming. Maybe we can catch a ride. Europeans are open to hitchhiking, right?”

Bucky watched as the glimmer in the distance started to take on the form of a car but as it got closer the lights on top of the roof were a dead giveaway to the type of vehicle it was. He was beside Larissa in an instant and grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him.

“Get behind the car. There’s only two of them. I’ll take care of them and then we’ll take their car.”

She turned around, following him back to the car instead. “What do you mean take care of them? Maybe they can help us or give us a lift to find another tire.”

“Need I remind you that this is a stolen car?”

The car was now close enough that Bucky could see the cop in the passenger seat looking at the number plate, before locking eyes with him. The man’s eyebrows furrowed.

He began to reach for the gun in the holster on his right hip but her hand grabbed his before he could unholster it.

“No.” Her brows were low, face a mask of anger. “You’re not doing that.”

“Let go of me.” He shook her hand off but she just grabbed his arm.

“They didn’t do anything. You’re not going to shoot them.”  
  


_She never could just let him deal with things the easy way, could she?_

His eyes flashed from the nearing police car, back to Larissa and then to the woods that began off the side of the road. With a firm hand on her back, he pushed her in the direction of the woods. “Run.”

“But-“ She resisted until a voice came over the loudspeakers of the car.

_“Stop. Stai unde ești!”(_Stop. Stay were you are!)

“Welp, that’s my cue.” She took off ahead of him into the woods.

He snatched the backpack off of the back seat and ran as the officers we getting out of their car.

The trees were close together here, causing him to have to slow down so he could zigzag through them. A branch scratched his face and pulled at his hair when he narrowly missed running into a tree. He shook his head when Larissa slowed to look over her shoulder at him. “Go,” he growled, as he caught up with her.

How could she not understand the gravity of this situation?_ If either of them were arrested by the cops…._ He shook his head and sped up, not wanting to think about the consequences.  
  


She managed to keep up with the pace he had set for a while longer until she stopped and bent forward to catch her breath. The forest was quiet but he couldn’t help but wonder if they were coming after them. _Maybe they were calling for backup?_ Every second standing still would be one they regretted if they were caught.

“You know that running just made us suspicious, right?” she said between wheezes. “We didn't do anything wrong. We just had a flat tire.”

He shook his head before raking his hand through his hair in an attempt to stop it from getting in his face. “That guy knew something was up.”   
  


“We don't know that though. We could have talked our way out of it. You were going to kill them for stopping to check if we were okay.”

She couldn’t see the bigger picture but still, somehow her words stung. “They’ve shown footage of me on the news. I am out in the open. Hydra may have been exposed but they will come for me and if it’s not them, it’s some other government or organization that wants to take me in and use me. I’m not going to let that happen. If that means killing to stay off of the radar, I have no problem with that.”

“They might have a few grainy images and those guys testimonies but what hard evidence is there that you are here. Besides, those files, the stuff that I found about you, it wasn’t digital. For all we know, they burned down with the Triskelion. You’re still a ghost story.”

“I can't take any chances.” He shook his head, getting more and more annoyed at her. “and neither can you. The moment Brock gets word of where we are, we’re done. They won't stop looking for us.”

Larissa sighed, her voice was much quieter when she spoke again. “I'm fucking tired of running.”

The anger that welled up in him surprised him. “It's either this or getting hauled back. You choose.”   
  


He started walking away, they needed to keep moving. He could hear her cursing at him as she treaded along a few extra meters behind him, probably out of protest.

“Do you even know where we're going?” she asked after they had been walking for a while. “Cause I feel like we're in the middle of nowhere and it's starting to get dark.”

“If you're so smart why don't you just figure it out.” He snapped back at her. He was trying to hold course towards the south but now that the sun had set he began to question his sense of direction. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was he going crazy. Ever since they had almost wiped him he couldn’t shake the way his skin crawled and his head throbbed and the sticky feeling of a voice whispering in his ear._ Желание-_  
  


“I understand you're tired,” Larissa said, pulling him back into reality, “we both are, but you clearly didn't think this through. If we had just stayed and talked to the police-”

“We would have been taken in and questioned because we were driving a stolen car. Back at the station they would recognize me and Brock would be there to pick me up within a few hours of them filing the arrest report. I don’t know if you particularly liked being held in that fucking safe but I’m not going back.” He stopped and turned to her.“You know what? If you really know better why don't you just find your own way out of here. See you in Bucharest.” he grumbled as he started walking away.

“Bucky, you’re acting like an insensitive dick,” she called after him.  
  


"Don't call me that,” he snapped.  
  


“What? Bucky or an insensitive dick?”   
  


“Both.”

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“Nothing.”  
  


He didn’t look back as he walked away but he knew she would still be following him silently, even though they both were frusterated.

Darkness was closing in quick. That didn’t necessarily worry him. It was the smell of rain in the air and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance promising rain that made worried. He wasn’t particularly fond of spending the night out there in the rain but still, he trudged on with his head down.

“Bucky?”

“You're still here?” he snapped sarcastically.

“Just shut up and look.” She replied, pointing to out into the woods. “I think there’s a building over there.”

He finally stopped and looked hard at the trees in the distance. The darkness that was closing in had made him completely oblivious to a clearing that was barely visible through the trees. A straight line of a roof broke the fluffy silhouette of trees against the sky.  
  


“I think you're right.”

They walked side by side into the clearing where a cabin loomed up out of the dark trees. No lights burned inside to indicate that someone was home. When she hesitated slightly in front of the door he pushed past her, easily popping the lock with his knife and pushing the front door open with his shoulder.

The floorboards creaked under their feet as they inched their way in. As he walked he felt along the rough logs that made up the wall with his right hand until he found what he was looking for and clicked the light switch. Silently and methodically he moved from door to door. He found nothing but a dusty room, a bathroom and a storage area.

_They were alone._

He returned to the kitchen just as she trailed her finger on the table, inspecting the dust that accumulated on her finger. “No one has been here in a long time,” she said, rubbing her hands together.

After he had done a few security rounds outside he returned to find Larissa already asleep curled up on the sofa, leaving the bed for him. The rain clattered on the roof as he got comfortable atop of the sheets. Even though he was taking the time to rest he was still mostly armed.  
  


Seeing himself on the news like that today had made one thing very clear for him. This girl was in danger just by being near him, not only by association but also by his own actions. His instincts weren’t something she would be able to handle in the long run. He wasn’t compassionate like her.

He would get her to Bucharest. She deserved to be safe and it would give him peace knowing she’d made it there. He would stay for a few days, make sure she was settled but after that, he needed to leave. It would be for the best.

**________________________________**

He awoke slowly to the sleepy warmth of the bed until a jolt went through him and he sat up. He had slept, _actually _slept. The sunshine was pouring in across the wooden floor. He had been out cold for at least 8 hours. The awareness of the time he felt he had lost loomed over him like a ghost.

If they had been deemed enough of a priority, police could be sweeping the woods by now. _Or if the man had recognized him._ He wished he had just taken care of them. It would save him from thinking about it now.  
  


Despite his readiness to leave this place, he slowed when he entered the living room. Larissa sat in one of the armchairs in a sunny spot in the living room, eating from a steaming bowl she had balanced on her lap. Dust danced in their rays of light that came from the window she sat in front of, watching the birds that flew from tree to tree.

And for the briefest of moments, he wondered if life could actually be this way. Quiet and sunny. Safe.

But just as quickly he knew that was an illusion. There was still a world outside of the little cabin and it was full of people who would kill to get to him.

The spell was broken when he cleared his throat. She jumped a little and turned to look at him.

“Good morning,” she greeted him, with a friendly smile. Her tone held nothing of the animosity and frustration she had held towards him the night before. He mumbled morning back, only noticing how hoarse he was now once he had spoken.

“There's some soup in the pan over there. You might need to warm it up again though.”

He nodded and walked over to the stove.

Her kindness made him started to feel bad about how he had acted towards her the night before. She was scared and frustrated and had every right to be. Being on the run was far from the life she was used to.

“I’m sorry for getting upset yesterday. I didn't mean what I said,” he said with his back still to her, stirring in the pan of soup.   
  


“I was just about to apologize to you too.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder.

“I should have been more understanding. The gravity of the situation-“ She paused and shook her head. “I'm sorry for not considering it. I also didn’t mean to call you an insensitive dick. You’ve done so much to help me, you didn’t deserve that.”   
  


He nodded slightly as he poured the steaming soup into a bowl and sat down in the armchair across from her.

“We're lucky you found this place. After we got in it started pouring,” he said and took a bite.

She smiled. “We definitely didn't need that on top of everything else.”

He raised an eyebrow when he caught her watching him. “What?”

“I was just thinking about how that beard in this setting, is starting to make you look like a lumberjack.”   
  


He couldn’t stop the ghost of a smile that formed on his lips.

He needed to make sure she was safe but he was also beginning to realize that he was going to miss having her around when it came time to let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> This chapter was kind of kicking my butt so i procrastinated editing it for two weeks. I actually think it didn’t turn out all that bad in the end so #succes :P
> 
> I hope you are staying cool in this hot weather because where i live it’s hotter than Bucky’s man bun and Bucky’s man bun is pretty darn hot.
> 
> Have a nice day <3


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient with me while it takes a bit longer to update sometimes! I really want to update more often and hope to do so once my weeks become a bit more predictable.
> 
> ( and a big thank you to all of you who leave comments. I swear, you are what makes it so much fun for me to update :) )

_This was it._

The tall building was mostly concrete and not very impressive but the many balconies showed that people had built lives here. The one balcony had an assortment of potted plants, from the other hung a drying rack with freshly washed clothes. She even saw someone enjoying the late afternoon sun whilst smoking a cigarette.

Would she be able to call this place home?

She looked over at Bucky to find him already looking at her. He nodded towards the door. "Lead the way."

She pushed open the doors and walked up to a panel people could use to buzz their guests up with without coming all the way down. She scanned the name plaques that were placed beside the doorbell buttons, suddenly realizing that she didn’t know how they were going to get in. Who was she supposed to contact? Did any of the residents know the owner of the building?   
  


Bucky stepped next to her, looking over the Romanian names for a moment. "That one,” he said as he pushed the button next to a name on the bottom row.

“How do you know?”

“It says that he’s the tenant next to his name.”

“Wait!” Her eyes went wide. “You can read Romanian?”

He shrugged.

“Did you know that already or..” Her sentence trailed off as the buzzing stopped and the door next to the panel opened. A grey-haired man popped his head around the corner and greeted them in Romanian.

She looked at Bucky waiting for him to answer the man but Bucky gave her a small nod.

She pressed her lips into a tightlipped smile, not quite knowing where to begin. “Hello, I’m sorry but do you speak English?”

A glint of curiosity flashed through the man's eyes. "A small bit,” he chuckled as he pressed his pointer and thumb together.

“I'm looking to get into the apartment that my parents bought a long time ago. Their names are Matteo and Audrey Belmonte.”

His eyes widened and he quickly glanced past them into the hall before he beaconed for them to come inside.

5 minutes later they were both sitting at his kitchen table with a cup of tea in their hands.

"How you know about the apartment?”

"I'm their daughter. My mother instructed me to come here. She told me it was a safe place. I should be in some file.... at least, that’s what she said-”

The man, who had introduced himself as Adrian Gheorghe was on his feet and across the room before she had finished her sentence. He pulled a drawer open next to his desk and flipped through files. “Do you have uhm, card?”

“An ID card?”

He nodded as he continued to riffle through the contents of the drawer.

“Yeah, I’ve got it right here.” Larissa pulled the backpack to her and unzipped one of the pouches containing her wallet and handed him her ID card.

His brows furrowed as he looked back and forth between the picture and her, nodded curtly and returned to his desk where he opened a file and glanced it over for a second. He came back and sat across from them at the table again. The serious look on his face broke into a smile. “You look like your father.”

“You know my dad?”  
  


“He was here a long time ago. You have the same face.” He smiled and paused for a moment before continuing. “Everything is okay. I give you keys.”

“Thank you.”

After handing the set of keys to Larissa with a friendly nod, Mr. Gheorghe turned to Bucky. “You have card?”

“He's with me-“ Larissa began before Bucky started talking in Romanian. She could tell he was unsure of his words and his voice was still very hoarse but the man nodded understandingly and responded. She looked back and forth between the two wishing she could understand.

After they finished their tea Mr. Gheorghe lead them out to the door and said goodbye.

“What did you say to him?” she asked as they began to make their way up the stairs.

“I kept it vague, said we ran after something bad happened to your parents. He seemed believe it and didn’t push farther.” Bucky cleared his throat.

“You look like you’re getting sick. You’re really hoarse.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything else as they climbed the stairs.

After trudging up the 12 flights of stairs Larissa felt like kissing the floor. There were a few other apartments down the hall but the whole floor looked pretty abandoned. She walked up to the door with the number that corresponded to the number on the set of keys she had been given. She pushed the key into the lock and turned. The door swung open they walked into their new home.

The apartment wasn't big but at this point having a safe place to stay was more than a blessing to her. There was a little kitchen and a bathroom. The room was empty except for a mattress was resting against the wall next to the bathroom. A fine layer of dust had settled over everything. The windows let in the warm late afternoon sun.

She walked to the end of the room where there was a door to the balcony. Being on the top floor of the building gave them a nice view of the city. She turned to see Bucky looking around. Their gazes crossed and she could feel that the pride and hesitance in his eyes matched her own.

They could make this work. They were going to be okay.

She could tell he was really tired and knew she should be too, but getting here somehow gave her a burst of energy. Bucky pulled the double mattress off the wall and dusted it off a bit.

“This place definitely needs some work,” she said as she gently touched the moth-eaten curtains.

Bucky let the mattress fall to the floor causing a cloud of dust to fly up into the air. She coughed and waved it away from her face with her hand.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he as down and unlaced his shoes before he began to unarm himself. Once all of his weapons were sprawled out on the floor he laid down on the mattress, curling his knees into his chest.

She picked her jacket up off of the floor and rifled through her wallet for the last stack of dollars she had left. Maybe she could use this odd burst of energy to get some supplies and food. “I’m going to try to get some groceries and hopefully some sleeping bags.”

Bucky tried to push himself up but she shook her head. “Stay. You need to rest. I’ll ask Mr. Gheorghe for directions.”

“But-“

“You look terrible-”

Bucky opened his mouth to interject but she continued before he could.

“and if someone followed us here they’ll find us even if we say in this building. Besides, you are on the news, not me.” She knew she sounded more confident then she felt.

She walked over to the pile of weapons that Bucky had shed onto the floor next to the mattress and picked up one of his Glocks. “Better?” she asked while she stuck the weapon into a pocket on the inside of her jacket.

He nodded and closed his eyes.

“Try to sleep,” she said before slipping out of the apartment, closing the door behind her.

Mr. Gheorghe had not only been willing to give her directions, he had also insisted on coming with her. Apparently a foreigner like her would need help navigating the aisles of a Romanian supermarket for the first time.   
  


He even helped her hauling the stuff she had bought up the stairs to their apartment, claiming he wouldn’t be a decent person if he let a girl with a sling drag the bags up the stairs by herself. She thanked him for his kindness, which he waved off.

She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding when she let the door fall shut behind her. Unexpected tension fell from her shoulders. Going out had taken more of a toll on her than she had expected. She was just glad Mr. Gheorghe was there so she was able to find what she needed as fast as possible.  
  


Bucky seemed to have not moved from the curled-up position he had morphed himself into on the mattress, although the pile of weapons next to the bed were now gone. He hadn’t woken up when she opened the door, which concerned her considerably. She hoped this was nothing more than the result of exhaustion.

When she began putting away the few groceries she had bought, she found where Bucky had stashed some of his weapons. One of his guns was neatly stored on one of the shelves in the refrigerator. In a nearby drawer, she found a few of his knives.

She turned back to his sleeping form. Looking at him better now she saw that he was clinging to a gun in his flesh hand. Her heart broke a little.

She let out a long sigh and continued the few items out of the drawer.

Along with Bucky’s knives, she found a box of matches and a pen that had been left there. There were a few more bits and bobs in the different drawers and cabinets. She opened the last drawer, not surprised to find some random pieces of paper and of Bucky’s more menacing-looking daggers inside. She flicked through the papers: an old electricity bill, a map and _a ripped open envelope_.

Her brows lowered as she turned the envelope in her hand. Written in cursive letters on the front was her name.   
  


Larissa held her breath, vaguely recognized the handwriting as that of her father. Even though she didn’t remember his handwriting from when she was younger, she had seen enough of his fine penmanship while she was going through the boxes in D.S. to recognize it now.

Her jaw dropped when she saw what the envelope contained. _Bills, _in the mix of soft pastel and bright colors of the Romanian Lei. It was enough to sustain them for a while. A small smile spread across her face as tears welled up in her eyes.

Although there was no note between the bills, she felt an immense sense of gratitude en closeness to her father for leaving her this extra buffer of security. It would give her some time to adjust before she had to go looking for a job.

She sighed as fatigue began to hit her as well. She managed to eat a little before she got ready for bed and tiptoed over to the mattress.   
  


She unrolled the two sleeping bags she had bought and draped one of them over Bucky's shivering body (by just kind of throwing it out over him from a safe distance). She stood back quickly, but he didn’t wake. Instead, he just pulled the sleeping bag closer to him in his sleep.   
  


Her brows creased in but she was too tired to put any more energy in being concerned. She carefully sat down on the other side of the mattress, before unclipping her sling and laying down as far from him as possible. Uneasiness at being so close to him crept up her spine but she knew it was better than sleeping on the floor. She curled in onto herself and let sleep take her.

**________________________________**

For a brief moment, her surroundings were unfamiliar when she woke the next morning until everything fell back into place in her drowsy brain.  
  


_This was what they had been fighting for. _

To get to here. Once they got to Bucharest, they'd be safe. She would be able to rebuild her life.

But now that she was here.....it was as if it hit her all over again. _This was it_, she had nothing to go back to from her old life. Everything she had known and loved for so long was gone, dead, ruined. She'd never get a chance at normalcy with her mother. Alex wasn't the person she had always believed him to be.

She pushed herself up off of the mattress and crossed the room feeling the sudden urge to move. Her eyes moved over the skyline that the buildings on the horizon carved out against the morning sky until they became blurry. She turned and grabbed the side of the counter willing her shakey sobs to calm.   
  


Why did everything feel so damn wrong? It wasn’t supposed to feel this way. _How in God's name did she even think she could do this?   
  
_

She rubbed her eyes with her tingling fingers and swallowed the lump in her throat. She needed to calm down. Spiraling down this rabbit hole wasn't going to help her. She grabbed one of the towels out of the plastic shopping bag and turned towards the bathroom.

She stopped and stood for a moment, looking at Bucky still curled up on the mattress, completely passed out with flushed cheeks and his hair sticking to his face. She took another quivering deep breath and closed the bathroom door behind her.

When she came out of the bathroom a while later, freshly showered and feeling a little bit less anxious she found Bucky awake and sitting on the edge of the mattress, lacing up his boots. “What are you doing?”

“I’m-“ he coughed, trying to make the hoarseness of his voice less noticeable, “I’m going to do some rounds outside. Make sure everything is okay. Check we weren't followed. I should have gone yesterday, right when we got here.”

His voice sounded worse than what it had the day before.

“Slow down, You look really sick. You should try to eat a little bit. There's still one can of soup that we brought from the cabin."

He nodded reluctantly but then closed his eyes again, seeming to allow himself to feel how miserable he felt instead of pushing it aside. His flesh hand reached up to touch his cheek. "I feel weird.” He let himself fall back onto the bed. "I don’t remember being cold like this since...."   
  


He didn't have to finish his sentence for her to know what he meant.  
  


She grabbed the can of soup from her backpack and began heating it up while she assembled a tomato and cheese sandwich for herself. "I think you just completely burned yourself out."

He fumbled a bit as he tried to drape the sleeping bag over himself. "I didn't even know that was possible."

"Part of being human, I guess. We all have our limits."

He opened his eyes glaring at her softly. "I don't feel very human."

She couldn’t help but wonder if he meant now or in general.

After everything he had been through for decades, she didn’t think it was weird that this was happening now that he was free. After fighting to stay alive for so long maybe this is how his body was processing the fact that he could rest now.

But still, the fact that he was down and incapable of doing much scared her. She didn’t like to admit that he was like a shield to her but she knew that if Hydra showed up before he got better, they'd be toast.

Bucky was the reason she was still alive.

“Bucky”  
  


He hummed in response but kept his eyes closed.  
  


“I think that now we’re here, we should try to contact Steve.”   
  


His eyes snapped open and looked at her with such horror on his face that it took her by surprise. His answer was firm and definitive. “No.”

“He could help us. He'd want to know that both of us are safe. He knows about you. I gave him a file-“

"I know that he knows about me." He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes while he paused. "He can’t know where we are."

"We could use someone on the outside, though. He’ll just want to help us-"

"No." His eyes became sharp with a look that she hadn't seen from him since that time Brock made him choke her to unconsciousness. "If you tell him, I'll leave."

She let out a long sigh and turned around, trying to hide the shiver that went down her spine and deciding to let it go for now. She tried to ignore his following eyes and assessed what needed to be done in the apartment.

Later that day, when she told Bucky about the money that had been left for her, he only shrugged. Silence had radiated off of him since their argument. Larissa knew a silent treatment when she saw one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up a few days ago to the heartbreaking news of the passing of Chadwick Boseman. I don’t quite know what to say because my prayers and best wishes won’t change the situation. All that I can say is that it’s truly inspiring to see the hope and joy that he has given to so many people, especially with his role as T’Challa. His role and the effects that Black Panther had, show the importance of representation. So many kids got to see a badass king/superhero that looked just like them, on the big screen for the first time. His legacy will go on. 
> 
> Deciding to interact with the world from a place of kindness is something we all can do. Spread love and equality. God knows that the world needs it. Rest in power, Chadwick.


	30. Chapter 30

Her eyes opened to the darkness of the room, still thick with sleep. Soft sounds had pulled back to reality as the last wisps of her dream ebbed away. She turned onto her side and listened, trying to make out Bucky's whimpering words.

It wasn’t the first time she had woken to him whispering in his sleep. It was the third night since they had made it to Bucharest and Bucky had been in a fever-dream most of the time. When he wasn’t sleeping he'd try to eat a little before going outside to do security sweeps. He took little notice of Larissa's advice for him to stay and rest. He would just get bundled up in the clothes that he had and go anyway.

He always slept with his back toward her. Sharing the mattress felt weird. She tried not to think of it too much, knowing that they would figure something out once they were settled and he was feeling better.

Bucky was quiet for a moment before she heard another small whimper come from him. The light of the moon that shone onto the floorboards gave her enough light to make out the way that his shoulders shook.

“Steve."

She felt a pang in her chest.  
  


Their conversation about Steve still hung between them, but she realized now that this affected him more than he was willing to let her know. He cared, maybe more than his conscious mind could even understand.  
  


When he shivered again in his sleep she realized that she was intruding. He was obviously distressed. It would be wrong of her to just let him deal with it. She pushed herself up to sit and reach out to touch his back, purposefully avoiding his metal shoulder, which was closest to her. She shook him a little. “Bucky, you’re dreaming-“

She didn’t even have a chance to scream before her body was slammed back onto the bed and the barrel of a gun was pressed to her throat.

The tears that sprang into her eyes with the shock of the sudden movement fell to her cheeks as a rush of panic overcame her.  
  


He had rolled over and on top of her. His was breathing was hard and his hair fell down around his face making it hard to see his facial features in the already dark room.

The gun pressed harder against the spot where her throat and jaw met. She whimpered but forced herself to look up at him.

His sharp eyes stared back at her.

“You were having a nightmare,” Larissa managed to choke out.

His face didn’t change.

She closed her eyes just so she wouldn’t have to look at his murderous gaze any longer. It reminded her of things she didn’t want to remember.

“I was just trying to help. You were crying in your sleep.’”

The pressure of the gun lessened before she heard the safety click back on and the sound of the gun falling on the floor beside the mattress.

He quickly pushed himself off of her and struggled a bit to free himself from his sleeping bag as he stood up, putting space between them. He paced the length of the kitchen once. His hands were at the base of his neck, as he took heaving breaths.

Larissa got up and scurried towards the bathroom.  
  


“Larissa.”

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of his voice but didn’t look back.

“Don’t do that again,” he rasped.  
  


She closed and locked the door, allowing herself to truly process what had just happened now that there was something physically blocking the space between them. _Not that it would really matter... _He had practically drilled her through a concrete wall back in the basement in DC. Punching in a wooden door would be a piece of cake for him.  
  


God, she felt stupid_. What had she expected to happen? _

When she returned to the room sometime later, eyes red-rimmed and head throbbing, he wasn’t there. Though her head ached at the thought of him right now, it made her feel a bit lighter to see that his empty sleeping bag had been moved to the floor on the opposite side of the room.

**________________________________**

He wasn't there when she woke up the next morning but he was there when she came out of the bathroom after showering. She found him standing in the middle of the room with most of their clothing bundled in his arms. They didn’t speak of the incident from the night before but she could tell he was giving her space, opting to avoid her gaze and keep her at a distance. He mumbled something about doing the laundry before leaving.  
  


He returned with the freshly washed clothes sometime later, just as she finishing replacing the burnt-out lightbulbs throughout the apartment. He began hanging the wet clothes over the shower curtain rod in the bathroom.

"I need your help with something," he said, breaking the silence suddenly as if just remembering something important.

She narrowed her eye but gave him a quick nod.  
  


"I found a sofa and I need help getting it up the stairs."

Her eyes widened and she pointed to the door. "By stairs, you mean those stairs?"

He nodded, walking over to it and opened it, she followed a few steps behind him.

"You know how physically weak I am, right? How in the world are we going to get it all the way back up there?" she asked when she saw the bulky sofa sitting in the back hall of the first floor.  
  


"Just lift the front off of the floor and just make sure the legs don't get stuck on the stairs, I'll be carrying most of the weight."

"Aren't you still sick?"

"I'm fine."  
  


She stared at him hard for a moment before she gave him a little nod. His face did look a lot less flush than it had been the past few days.

Together they slowly made their way up the 12 flights of stairs. Larissa was in constant fear of the dang thing slipping from her fingers and then running over Bucky. On the 12th floor she bent forward to catch her breath as Bucky pushed the sofa through the doorway with ease.  
  


He was adjusting it in front of the island when she walked in and raised her eyebrows. "It looks good. Where did you find it?"  
  


"Someone was moving and was going to dump it. I found it alongside the road last night."

"We don't have to sit on the floor anymore," she said with a small smile.  
  


They heated up some food and ate on the new (old) couch. She was sat crisscross facing the windows when her thoughts were pulled back to the night before. The moonlight had lit up the room, the pale light reflecting off of his metal arm. _His eyes..._

A shiver went down her spine. If he saw it, he didn’t say anything.

Bucky left after they had lunch but returned later that afternoon with a bunch of newspapers and masking tape.  
  


"For the windows," he said placing the pile on the ground, holding the tape out towards her. "I found them in by the laundry machines in the basement. You said something about it being too bright the other day. Thought we could use these to cover the windows a bit."

  
_Pretty good memory for someone who was stuck in a fever dream for the last 3 days._

They worked together to tape off the windows. She tried to distract herself from their close proximity by concentrating on the view. She felt a bit sad about not having a view but it would be nice not to be woken up by the sun every morning. If she wanted the view she’d just have to go out onto the balcony.

They didn’t talk as they worked together until he broke the silence.

"I’m sorry."

Her hands stopped, wavering for a moment before she used the tape she’d just ripped off to stick the newspaper down. Despite her uneasiness with him, she knew he hadn’t meant for that to happen last night. "It’s not your fault. I startled you last night-"

"Not that," he mumbled. His brows lowered in remorse. "Well, also that but I meant something else."

She furrowed her brows in confusion. _What was he apologizing for? _

"I found the envelope your father left before you did." His eyes were downcast as he continued. "I read the letter and didn't put it back with the cash. I shouldn’t have done that."  
  


She was just about to break off another piece of tape but Larissa lowered her hands, shocked. She looked over at him, trying to make sense of what he was telling her.

"He left something for me?”

Bucky didn’t answer. Instead, he walked over to the side of the mattress and pulled up one of the floorboards. He returned to her holding out a thin, slightly wrinkled piece of paper.

Hurt washed over her but instead of confronting him, she grabbed the letter from his shaky hand and turned away, walking over to the kitchen counter as she unfolded the paper and read it with wide eyes.

_‘Dear Larissa,_

_With all of my heart, I wish that you will never read this letter because that would mean you will have never come to this place to hide. You might have already heard about what happened, I might be gone already. The important thing for you to know is that with everything in me I regret deciding to work for that cursed organization. I’ve done terrible things, sweetheart, and whilst trying to make things right from the inside out I became sloppy. Your mother never had the same amount of trouble working for them as I did. She thinks that her research will change the world, and to be honest, I believe her, but I can’t ignore what and who it is destroying._

_She says she can see that you have taken over my caring side already. I hope that if you do read this, you aren’t here because you cared too much, and if you are, well so am I so I guess she's right about the two of us._

_I’ve been here for a while now but I've stayed in one place longer than I should. I know they are sending him to hunt me down. In the meantime, I've made myself useful. I set up this place so you and your mom will have a safe place to run to if it is necessary. This place has been paid off and electrical bills are taken care of for a while too. Although not much can get worse than winters in Siberia, you don’t want to be without power during the Romanian winter. Trust me, I'd know._

_I love you. Forever and always,_

_Dad.’_

A tear fell from her eye, she wiped it away with her sleeve but another took its place quickly thereafter. Her heart felt so full that she was scared it was going to burst. Having this one last thing from her dad was meaningful. Knowing that he had thought of her while he had been here even more so. But the knowledge of what the man who was now watching her read had done to her father, was a crushing reality.

She didn’t turn back to him as she let the situation sink in.  
  


Hydra had sent Bucky, no, the winter soldier to hunt her father down. The man who had been sleeping in the same bed as her, had murdered her dad. A small sob escaped her and she glanced over her shoulder at him.

_He had tried to keep this from her._

“I- uhm,” he took a deep breath nodding his head once, as he pressed his lips together. “I think I was sent to kill him.”

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes again. “I think so too.”  
  


He stood there quietly, seeming as if he was unsure of what to do as her tears started falling again.  
  


She turned away and wiped her eyes harshly with her sleeve. "Why would you keep this from me?"

Even though she felt like she barely knew this fearful looking stranger, they had traveled so far together. She had trusted him, with her life to get here. But him hiding this last letter from her father hurt like a betrayal.

She hadn’t expected it from him. _Maybe she should have. What was she thinking trusting him without a doubt? _  
  


“I told you about him. Why would you do this to me?”

He was quiet for a moment before answering in a low, quiet voice, refusing to look into her eyes. A frown was etched deeply on his face. "I was scared-" he stumbled over the words before clearing his throat, "I am scared. But after what happened last night, I needed you to know."

"I need a minute."  
  


She removed herself from the situation and went to sit outside onto the balcony.  
  


She tried to remind herself that he wasn't the one to blame for the murder of her dad. Hyrda had sent him. Bucky was a victim just as much as her dad was. But she didn't know if this could work if she felt like she couldn't trust him. They didn't have to share everything with each other but this was a big deal to her. It might have scared him but he had no right to hide the letter from her.

But on the other hand, he had apologized and given back the letter. Didn't his remorse earn him another chance?

She tried to calm herself down so she could go back inside where he was waiting for her. She realized that more was at stake. The unspoken question had been floating between them the past week. _Was he going to stay?_

When she went back inside a little while later, she was alone. Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes darted across the room. The situation hit her like a ton of bricks.

Bucky and his belongings were gone.

Her breath constricted in her chest, she immediately felt her panic flare up.

At that moment her answer became very clear to her. She wanted him to stay. She didn't want to be in constant fear and somehow she feared a little bit less when he was near.

She felt herself begin to crumble again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bucky has left the chat*
> 
> Larissa’s lesson of the day: do not wake a sleeping assassin. It won’t end well.  
(yes, I’m still kind of annoyed at the fact that she doesn’t think stuff through and I am the writer lol. :)
> 
> I feel like I’ve written a pretty self-aware version of Bucky (he’s able to admit that something scares him and he’s apologized on two different occasions already). The weird thing with writing (for me at least) is that sometimes things don’t necessarily feel like a conscious decision. Sometimes the story/characters kind of just flow. That probably sounds a bit pretentious but I guess it’s just kind of how it feels for me.
> 
> On another note: Chapter 30!!! 66k words!!! HELL YEAH, BISHHHH!!!
> 
> Have a nice day! Stay safe!


	31. Chapter 31

With a sigh, he let his head fall back against the wall as he listened to the sound of jingling keys that carrying up the stairwell. A few floors down, one of the inhabitants of the building unlocked their door and went inside. Through the slightly cracked door, he had a good view of her door across the hallway. If anything happened, he would be there.

It was the least he could do.

When he had found the letter a few days ago, he had panicked. He had hurt her, more than either of them had known. He had murdered her father and couldn’t even remember it.

_After all the kindness she had shown him, he had repaid her with this. _

It wore heavy on him while the fever scorched his body and left him feeling frozen even under the layers of clothes and the sleeping bag. All the while he didn't know what to do. He had felt so damn guilty. _He still did._

The inability to act was unfamiliar and suffocating. The fact that his panic affected him so much just made him even angrier at himself. A month ago this wouldn’t have been an issue. The soldier never needed to entertain thoughts of emotion; he just acted. But now…. He wasn’t the soldier anymore.

_Good god,_ his head hurt.

His eyes were pulled out to the hall again. There had been no sounds from the apartment since he left. He wondered if she was glad that he was gone. She’d be better off without him. He tried to remind himself that he couldn’t expose her to himself much longer anyway.

He looked down, causing his hair to fall around his face like a curtain. Even though the sky had gone dark over an hour ago, the plates of his metal arm reflected in the darkness. He flexed his fingers.

_He was a weapon._

_His mind was untrustworthy and foggy._

_His body was trained to hurt without a second thought._

_He couldn’t be trusted._

Not only was he a danger due to the people he was bound to attract, but he himself was also a danger to her. He would only bring her more pain. She didn’t deserve that.

His flesh hand reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out the little square photograph. The image wasn’t visible in the dim light.

He moved his thumb over the small square, remembering what she had done to get him where he was today. She had paid a price in hopes of getting through to him. And she had succeeded.

She was the reason he was here, alive and away from Hydra for the time being. So in return, he was going to stay here, across the hall, until he knew she was stable and getting herself on track. Long enough to know that Rumlow hadn’t followed them here.

  
After that, he’d leave. He had no idea where he would go. Hydra’s tentacles were still coiled deeply in his mind. He realized full well that wherever he went, he couldn’t hide from the nightmares that plagued him more and more each day.

He fell asleep sitting up against the wall, the little photograph of himself mutilated and bloody, fell from his fingers onto the floorboard as he nodded off.

**________________________________**   
  


Larissa became his life for the time being. He sat by the door most of the day so he could listen for threats. He only ever left his spot by the door to take a shower or go outside. He did security sweeps in the streets around the apartment building, hair tied back, hat low, and shying his bearded face away from anyone who looked in his direction.

It had been almost 3 days and she hadn’t gone out for anything, not even up to the roof for fresh air. He was beginning to get increasingly worried. The sound of the floorboards creaking from time to time and the shower running once a day assured him that she was still there. Other than that, there was only silence.

He reminded himself that it was better this way.

On the fourth day, Larissa left the apartment for the first time. He watched from his peephole as she opened the door and hesitated before she began her descent.

She had cut her hair. Although it was still the same dark brown, she wouldn’t be as easily recognized now that her hair stopped above her shoulders. _Smart._ If anyone was looking for her, they just might have to take a second glace to recognize her.

He noticed that although she still hugged her one arm against her body, she wasn’t wearing her sling anymore.

Once she was a few floors down, he dared to quietly open the door and venture out into the hallway. He kept his distance as he followed her, not wanting to interfere or be seen, and waited across the street outside the supermarket until she came out again.

It was then that he could see her face for the first time.

She looked depleted, in the fullest sense of the word. Her eyes were sunken, lack of sleep left dark circles under them. He caught the way she rubbed her hands together before she stuck them in the pockets of her jacket. Her shoulders were high. Her pace was hurried.

He followed her back to the apartment building and hung back for a few minutes before entering and listened for her footsteps in the stairwell above.

It was quiet at first, which confused him. _There was no way she made it up 12 flights of stairs in less than 3 minutes. _Then, after a moment of listening, he could make out a muffled sob.

He waited at the bottom of the stairs for a while but he didn’t hear her walking up the steps any further. He sighed and shook his head. He wasn’t able to stop himself. With heavy steps, he made his way up, scolding himself as he went.

He found her 4 floors up sitting on the stairs with her grocery bag beside her. Her eyes went wide when she saw him and she quickly tried to wipe her face with her sleeve. “What-“

"You coming?" he interrupted as he took the handle of the grocery bag.

She took a deep breath and nodded before following him wordlessly the rest of the way up the steps.

Later that evening, Bucky closed the door to the roof as quietly as he could, already dreading the feeling of the wood floor beneath his sleeping bag. He had left immediately after he had escorted her back into the apartment but he could still feel the way her tear-filled eyes staring into the back of his head as he left without a word. She had opened her mouth to speak but he hadn’t given her the chance to do so.

He didn’t need her to remind him of his guilt and he rather not know how much she hated him for what he had done. It would make only make it harder for him.

As he opened the door to his apartment, his foot bumped up against something.

He looked down, noticing the rectangular object that stood on its side against the doorframe. He picked it up with his flesh hand, looking over his shoulder at her door before back down at the item she had most definitely left for him. She had left him a book again.

_It obviously hadn’t been hard for her to figure out where he was staying once she knew he was still nearby._

He couldn’t help the way the corner of his lips pulled upward slightly, betraying the reason in his brain that was telling him it was bad that she knew where he was.  
  


In the hallway light, he inspected the book. The cover was a deep blue and had no title. He turned it over to inspect the spine and furrowed his brows. Again there were no letters to indicate a title.

He opened it, flipping through the pages. They were all blank except for one.

_'Thank you for staying_', was written in blocky letters on the first page. He looked back over his shoulder at her door again before he went into his cold and dark apartment.

**________________________________**

It was easy enough for him to steal a pen but it took courage to face the terrors of what he was beginning to know as memories. To confront the nightmares and put them down on paper took more strength than he thought he had.

The book lay untouched for a few more days and restless nights before he found it in him to face the illusive whisps of his past.

Once he sat down on the floor and started writing, the words began pouring out of him. He was terrified by the feeling that they would never stop coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this chapter. I added this chapter a bit later in the writing process but I think it definitely adds something to know what Buckaroo is up to. (plus I think it’s kind of cute that he just moved across the hall so that he can make sure she’s okay.)
> 
> I don’t want to get too political on here but if you live in the USA remember to register to vote! As a US citizen living abroad, I was able to vote for the first time today! I know it might not always feel like it but your vote counts. Regardless of your political viewpoint, change can only happen when we all let ourselves be heard.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Have a nice day :)


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear reader! Are you over 18 and living in the USA? This is your reminder to VOTE!!!!!! Please! Just do it! (like, after you read this chapter though :p)
> 
> Thank you for returning to ‘The Safety-Deposit Box! Sorry for taking so long between updates lately! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

It had been nearly two weeks.  
  


Once he had helped her in the stairwell, it didn’t take much sleuthing to figure out that he was staying in the apartment across the hall. She was lonely and scared but it helped a little to know that he was there. She didn’t confront him (other than leaving the notebook at his doorstep), knowing he needed space.  
  


She felt like she needed space too. She needed to give the information about the death of her father some space to rest.

The subtle tug on her subconscious let her know that he was watching her. It followed her when she went out to get groceries. In a normal situation, knowing that someone was following her would be more than enough to make her never go outside again. But this wasn’t a normal situation. Even though she hadn’t heard or seen anything, it didn’t mean that Hydra wasn’t still trying to locate them.

_Safe house,_ she scoffed at the thought. A safe house wasn’t really safe when you brought the people who were a threat to you along in your own head. She saw them when she slept and when her mind began spiraling during the day. Sometimes she cried for what she had lost. Other times she woke covered in sweat and choking on her breath. It took long warm showers to convince herself that she was alright.

She braced herself every time she heard people in the stairwell. Her eyes became sunken because of the hours that were spent staring up at the ceiling and listening. She was waiting. For someone, _maybe even Brock_, to come barging into her ‘safe’ heaven.  
  


And someone did come barging in, just not the person she had expected.

He came in like a hurricane. He was out of breath and reaching for anything he set his eyes on that could be of use.

“Bucky?” She felt breathless with disbelief. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since that time in the stairwell. “What’s going on?”

“I blew it.” Bucky grabbed her backpack off the floor and started haphazardly filling it with a small bundle of his belongings before he began compiling hers.

She didn’t have time to think. She was on her feet in an instant. _Was this it? Were her fears becoming true?_

“What happened?’ She rushed over to the sink to fill two water bottles and grab some food and money she had stashed in one of the drawers.

“Someone saw me. A Hydra officer. I swear to god, they recognized me. How have I not been more careful?” He stumbled into the bathroom. His shoulders were heaving. “He was even wearing a fucking Hydra pin.”

Larissa slowed, watching him as he zipped her toothbrush into the front pocket of the backpack, next to his own. Hydra officers hadn’t worn pins with the skull and tentacles since the Second World War, _at least not in public anyway. _  
  


He stormed over to the kitchen. She stepped out of his way when he flung open the refrigerator and then the drawers collecting the few weapons he had left there.

"Why are you just standing there?!" he growled in exasperation.

"Slow down." She moved her hand toward him slowly, reaching out to take the backpack from him. It slid off his shoulder and onto the floor with a soft thump. Her eyebrows creased as she tried to puzzle together what was happening.

He stilled. His eyes narrowed and then filled with hurt. "You don’t believe me."

"No, that’s not true. I just need you to slow down for a second-“

His face turned into a sneer. “You think I’m crazy! Why did I come back here? I’m wasting my time.” He turned away from her raking his hand through his hair.

"Breath," she said softly.

"I fucking am!" His voice left an echoing silence. Only the far-off sounds of the city and his heaving breaths could be heard.

His eyes widened when he, only then, seemed to hear how fast his breaths were. He took a step back and then another as if he suddenly felt faint. His metal hand clenched into a fist.

She mustered up the courage to hold out her hand. His eyes franticly moved from her hand to her face until he slowly reached out and placed his palm on top of hers.

His flesh fingers were cold. _Underoxigenated, f_rom the way he was breathing. She knew the feeling far too well.

Larissa led him along behind her to the nearest wall where he slid down to sit on the floor. She got down onto her knees beside him.

"Focus on your breath." She placed his hand on top of his stomach, "Try to breathe into your stomach, okay?’

He nodded but his eyes strayed to the front door.  
  


"What did he look like?"  
  


His eyes darted back towards her and narrowed.

“I know you take in people with immense detail,” she continued, “so what did he look like?”  
  


His mouth opened but then closed again. His nostrils flared as he began panicking more than before. "I… I don’t know.”

“Hydra officers don’t walk around with pins like that anymore. They haven’t since the end of the war.”

“God-“  
  


"Hey, shhh, It’s okay. Hydra can’t go prancing around in the open anymore, at least not like that. If they were coming for us, it would be with a highly armed swat team, not with a group of Hydra officials with their merch.” She adjusted herself to sit crosslegged. ”I feel like I know you well enough by now to know that you would have noticed if there were any undercover agents. Did you see anything suspicious?”

He shook his head.

“Then, I think we’re still okay.”

"You know as well as I do that I’m not safe. I never will be. They’ll never stop coming for me,” he sucked in a particularly gasping breath, “and I’m bringing you into danger by just being here now.”

He pulled the backpack, that was laying on the floor beside her, over to him. He held it tightly against him as if it were a shield. "I don't want to hurt you."

“You won’t-“

"You can’t say that,” he snapped. “You know it’s not true." He paused for a beat before he began digging through the backpack. He pulled out the journal she had given him. "I’ve killed people," his tight grip on the book made his knuckles turn white, "more than I can count."

His metal hand clawed at the floorboard. He refused to look at her, choosing to stare ahead of himself and lock his jaw. Despite his effort to harden his appearance, she could see the sadness that managed to leak through. He had never looked so lost.

“I’m beginning to remember them,” he whispered. His eyes became glassy, shimmering in the afternoon light that filtered through the gaps in the newspapered windows.

"It’s okay to let go, Bucky," Larissa said quietly.

As he fought for air he pressed his eyes shut, causing the tears in his eyes to fall. Then he broke down.

**________________________________**

"How is that even possible? I saw the pin. The guy walked past me outside of a garage a few streets away from here." 

Bucky had calmed down. The two of them hadn’t moved, except to lay flat on the floor. Larissa had her sock-clad feet pressed flat against the wall. Bucky lay beside her, his legs were bent at the knee, keeping his feet on the ground.

“He looked straight at me.” Bucky paused for a moment. “It feels like everyone is looking at me when I’m doing rounds outside.”

Larissa knew that feeling. It was the same feeling that made it almost unbearable for her to leave the apartment. She felt that at any moment, she would realize she was cornered and unable to escape.

_They were both way too fucking paranoid._

It was safe to say that Bucky's outburst of tears had taken her by surprise. He seemed embarrassed about it, choosing to hide his face with his arm the moment his fear began to overflow. From her place next to him, she could see that his sleeve was still damp. Despite the way he kept looking up at the ceiling and refused to look at her with his red-rimmed eyes, he had calmed down and seemed almost a bit relieved. 

"I don't know exactly how it works,” she started, “but I think I read an article about how when people experience trauma, the brain tries to deal with it in a way that brings you the least amount of pain. It puts the memory into a box and locks it away sometimes. It could be that something triggered a memory and made it real for you again. The officer with the Hydra pin came back out into reality.”

"So now I’m hallucinating?" He scoffed, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes in frustration.

"I don’t know. I mean, not _necessarily_. The guy probably was wearing a pin or a badge. You just subconsciously connected it to an experience you had in the past."

He let out a deep sigh. "I’m a fucking public safety hazard." 

She didn't know what to say. It wasn't his fault he was this way. She turned to see him looking at her, face still a bit flushed from crying earlier. He quickly moved his gaze away. 

"I need to leave,” he mumbled under his breath. 

Larissa took a deep breath, waiting for him to go on. 

"I’m a danger to you. After everything, I don’t want to make the things you’re dealing with worse."

Her mind immediately began to race. She had been ruminating over it more than what was healthy. She could easily conjure up a couple of dozen ways Hydra would find her or how everything could go to shit. Dealing with it all alone was absolutely terrifying. If they found her alone, she was fucked. It was a simple as that. Despite the way the doom scenarios played out in her mind, all she could do was give him a small nod. 

“I thought you had already left, until you… helped me.” 

"I thought you were mad."

"I was,” she said. “I still kind of am."

"You have every right to be. I'm the reason your father is dead."

She pressed her lips into a line, trying to collect her thoughts. "But they made you do it."

“I still did it.”

Silence fell around them for a moment before she continued. "I'm mad that you kept the letter from me. I don't have much from him. They never told me what happened and I-" she swallowed hard, "I felt really abandoned when he passed. Knowing that was here,” she made a faint gesture at the room around her, “and that he thought of me here, it’s comforting."

"I'm sorry for keeping that from you."

She nodded.

"Why did you stay?" Larissa spoke up after another beat of silence. The question had been occupying her since he had found her in the stairwell.

"You helped me," he shrugged. "I got you into this mess. Making sure you were okay, even if it was from across the hall, was the least I could do.” His flesh hand slipped into his jacket pocket and reappeared with the small photograph between his fingers. He held it out to her.

She took the picture from him. The memory of finding the photo and sliding it into the safe felt like a lifetime ago. 

“When I found this, I knew for sure who you were. I’m glad you still have it. I was scared someone would find it or that you wouldn’t remember you had it.”

"And also, _I_ am the reason we are in this mess,” she said. “You would have easily avoided Brock and Hyrda back in D.C. and it was my phone that had a tracking device in it. This whole time I've felt like I’m holding you back and slowing you down."

He let out an amused huff and shook his head. “You were holding me together.” He sobered. “But now I don’t know where to go. I don’t think it matters.”

“You could stay.”

He deadpanned at her and sighed upon realizing that she was serious. “I’m a ticking timebomb.”

“You are a human who's dealt with more shit than most people will ever be able to imagine. If you don't want to be alone, there's plenty of room here. I'm not planning on going anywhere for the time being.” _Unless it became unsafe to stay or Brock showed up on her doorstep._

He raised his eyebrows. “What happens when I hurt you again?”

"Maybe we can cross that bridge when we get to it. You can decide to leave if things get bad.” 

He let out a grumble.

Larissa looked back up at the ceiling. A pleasant thought popped through the tension that still moved through her body. "So you know the brain box thing? I wonder if certain things can trigger positive memories."

"Like what?"

"I don’t know. Is there something you’ve been drawn to? I know there's a strong link between music and memory. Or what about certain foods?" 

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I guess we could try."

After another quick, and anxiety-inducing, stop at the grocery store, the rest of the afternoon was spent preparing an apple crumble. Since he couldn’t come up with and food in particular, Larissa insisted on making the simple and sweet treat. Apples were starting to come into season and it was the closest thing to a classic apple pie that she could make without a recipe. The sight of him writing away in his notebook beside a bowl with his second scoop of crumble brought a smile to her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo sorry for the unplanned hiatus. Boy, it has been a month! Things that have happened this month or so:  
\- I studied for, completed and passed two exams! (booyah).  
\- I voted! Have you voted yet? Please vote. The Cheeto man scares me.  
\- I got a really bad cold the weekend before I had my driving exam planned so that didn’t go through. I tested negative for covid (yay) but still, you can’t really go outside with a cold nowadays. Whenever you sneeze everyone in a 0.5 km radius looks at you like you have the plague.  
\- I had an existential crisis. Lol always fun. But honestly, anxiety sucks sometimes (read: most of the time). If any of you are dealing with this same thing, just know you are not alone. Try to be gracious towards yourself. Life is a lot sometimes. Take a breath. You deserve to feel at peace. This is a reminder to myself just as much as it is a reminder to you all <3  
\- I watched the episode of the office where Dwight and Andy are jamming out to ‘take me home, country roads’ and the song has been in my head ever since XD  
\- Also, I made Bucky cry this chapter. (it was good for him. he needed it.) I’m pretty dang sure that that deserves to be on this list. 
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading and leaving comments and kudos. Your support means a lot to me <3
> 
> Have a nice day! Be kind to yourself!


	33. Chapter 33

There were only so many things she could clean in the apartment, and she had cleaned them all at least twice. Now that the work was done, the emptiness began creeping back in, and as the summer drew to a close, her numbness became more real. She didn’t know if the feeling of complete emptiness was part of the grief cycle, but if it was, she was surely in it. 

Although Bucky seemed to find fulfillment in filling the pages of his notebook, she knew that he too lay awake at night. Their groggy faces matched. Sometimes, when she had actually managed to sleep for a few hours, she’d wake to see his silhouette in the open door of the balcony. Sometimes she would wake and he would be gone. It always made her wonder if he was gone for good.

_ She would be fucked if she was alone. _

On nights like this, she couldn't stop thoughts like that from creeping their way to the forefront of her mind.

Like many nights before, she had woken from a rather grim dream to realize he wasn't there. But only a few minutes later, she heard the shuffle of his shuffle of boots in the hall and the closing of the door. She turned to lay on her side so she could watch as he made his way over to the kitchen and clicked on the light above the sink. She saw he was carrying something as he let it fall to the floor with a thump. 

“What are you doing?” 

He straightened to look over in her direction before bending down behind the kitchen island. “Come see for yourself.”

She sighed, recognizing the tactic he’d used on her a few times now to make her get out of bed. From time to time he’d ask her to assist him with a task. He'd ask her to help carry the laundry down to the basement where the machines were or to stir the food while he chopped something else. 

It wasn't like they didn't already take turns doing the few tasks that needed to be done. He only did it when she was having a particularly bad day. 

She got up and padded over to the kitchen to find him kneeling on the ground next to a huge coil of rope, untangling the knots. 

“Where’d you find that?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around herself to try to make up for the sudden loss of the warmth.

“People leave the most peculiar things out next to their trash bins on pick up day.”

_ She couldn’t argue with that. _

He stood once he’d untangled and recoiled the rope. He opened the door to the balcony and walked out, leaving the door open for Larissa to follow. 

Then it hit her what he was planning.

“Wait, your not-“ She didn’t need to finish her question when she saw the look on his face. “This isn’t mission impossible! You can’t just scale down the side of a building.”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded, “You’re right. I’m not going to scale down the side of the building.” The way a small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth did little to quell her concern. “You are.”

She was stunned to silence. Her eyes immediately went to the road below. It was abandoned at this hour of the night, but still, it was 12 floors away and made of asphalt and concrete. She backed away from the banister. “What the fuck?!”

“You need another way out of the building if they were to come for us,” he explained while looking out over the quiet city. “I can fight my way down. You can't. Unless you want me to practice throwing you across the road onto one of those buildings, you’re going to want to practice this,” he said as he motioned towards the rope and looked at her expectantly.

"I'm not hanging off of the side of the building 12 floors up." 

"We can start on the second floor."

“And we’re doing this _ now?” _

He shrugged. “You weren’t sleeping anyway.” 

“But other people are!” 

“They’re renovating a few apartments on the first and second floor. No one will hear us if you’re quiet.”

“I’m in my pajamas,” she said motioning at her oversized Dunder Mifflin shirt. 

“Put something else on. We both know you’re not going to be sleeping anyway so we might as well start working on this now.”

She squinted her eyes at him but then did go back inside to get changed. 

As she followed him down the stairs, she muttered to herself about how insane this idea really was. Hanging on the outside of a balcony on the first floor was one thing, but 12 floors off the ground? Concrete sidewalks didn't function as good safety nets. 

Still, she followed him.

On the balcony of an apartment on the first floor, he weaved the rope through a bar of the balcony that was anchored into the building. Once he was done, the rope was secured in one of the most intense knots she had ever seen.

While still standing on the inside of the balcony, he secured the rope around his waist and through his legs and held the two loose ends in his right hand. He leaned back, allowing his weight to be supported by the rope, and raised his eyebrows at her.

“I still think this is insane,” she said as she shook her head.

“We’re one floor off of the ground. You’ll live.” 

“That’s _ not _ reassuring.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it in baby steps. And I’m not committing to rappelling down from the 12th floor without proper gear.”

He shrugged and untangled himself from the rope before offering it to her. 

She replicated his method from earlier, accepting his instructions as she went along. A few minutes later, she was letting her weight be supported by the rope, just like he had.

“Give the ropes a bit of slack.”

As she gave the rope a bit more room, she was slowly lowered backward until her butt came in contact with the balcony floor.

Before she knew it they were both standing close together on the outside of the balcony. Her palms were so sweaty she thought she would just slide down the moment she tried to rappel. Bucky assured her that was impossible. “Just don’t look down,” he chuckled before letting himself drop down to the ground that was only a meter or two away.

Larissa stood there alone, freaking out. When she did look down, she regretted it but she regretted looking upward even more. _ How in hell was she going to do this from the 12th floor? _ She didn’t know if she would still be able to enjoy the view from their top floor apartment anymore.

She looked back down to see that he was standing right below, where she was hanging.

“You’re a shitty safety,” she grumbled. She heard him chuckle lowly. 

_ Here goes nothing. _

The rope dug into her uncomfortably as she made slow and painful progress. By the time she got down to the ground, her hands were burning and she was sweating like crazy. 

She may or may not have cursed at him when he told her to do it again but he was patient and ignored her words of momentary frustration.

After repeating her decent for a second time, Bucky decided that she had practiced enough. Back in the apartment, she held her painfully red hands under cold water. 

Larissa was felt tired and her arms shook from exhaustion. But somehow, despite hanging off of the side of the building for the past hour, she felt… kind of okay.

That night she slept better than she had since everything went to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Give yourself a pat on the back for surviving last week because it was something else! 
> 
> Never thought my writing would bring me to the weird side of YouTube where some guy was explaining how to rappel with only a rope, but here we are. Don’t try this at home, kids! (Also, don’t worry she’s not going to actually rappel from the 12th floor without proper gear)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Have a nice day!
> 
> (I’m going to be uploading another lil chapter in a few days because this one was kind of short. This chapter and the next one kind of go together but not enough to make them one chapter sooo yeah…)


	34. Chapter 34

“How many times do I have to do this?” Larissa asked as she moved the curls that had begun to fall into her face behind her ear again. Since she had cut her hair, her already unruly curls had become even more stubborn and refused to stay in a little ponytail. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Despite the cool evening air, she had built up a sweat. 

It was pretty dark up on the roof but the little flickering light beside the door glowed just bright enough that she could make out the way he raised his eyebrows with a jaded look on his face. 

She composed herself, reminding herself that he was doing this to help her. She was pretty sure that getting up in the middle of the night to practicing basic self-defense wasn't something people did just for fun. At least, it wasn't in her opinion.

“Sorry, ignore me. I don’t like doing reps. Now you know why SHIELD never let me out of that fucking security room.” She punched the makeshift strike pad that he was holding a few times in quick succession. “Well… that and the fact that my aim sucks.”

Since they had begun practicing rappelling off the side of the building a few weeks earlier, they had formed an odd new routine. She’d practice rappelling while Bucky watched from below. Most of the time they practiced at the ungodly hour of 3 in the morning. 

Oddly enough, the routine gave her some stability. They took things slow at first, giving her shoulder time to become accustomed to being used more intensively. She was getting good but still refused to rappel from any higher than the fourth floor without any real safety precautions. Even though Larissa wallowed in her emotions and had still nightmares when she slept, she knew the habit was having a positive impact on her.

Besides, being outside late at night was sort of calming.

She ducked, just a moment too late when Bucky swung one of the duck-taped pillow pads at her. It bonked her in the head, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make her lose her balance. The impact brought her back to why they were practicing self-defense in the first place.

Larissa knew better than trying to waking Bucky up for their nightly rappelling sessions. (She hadn’t attempted that since Bucky had jabbed a gun against her throat). And luckily she never had to, because Bucky usually was the one to wake her. 

That is… until one night a week earlier when she woke to see that he was still sleeping on the couch, curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his knees.

She got up, went to the bathroom, put her choppy hair up with a hair tie and got changed, hoping that Bucky would wake up from her moving around in the apartment. But when she returned from the bathroom, he was still lying in the same position. 

She had gone over the options in her mind. _Making a loud sound? _Nah, she would hate to scare him like that. _Poking him with a long object, like the plastic ladle from the kitchen, for instance?_ She bit her lip and frowned. She didn’t want him thinking she was afraid of him when he woke to her standing a few meters away, clutching a kitchen utensil.

She sighed and shook her head. Tapping his shoulder seemed like the most decent thing to do at that moment. Besides, he had been sleeping calmly. It seemed safe enough. 

She regretted her decision immediately when she was shoved backward, losing her balance in the process. By the time Bucky snapped out of it, he was looming over her, dagger in hand. 

Needless to say, he became adamant about teaching her self-defense, claiming that it might prevent her from getting hurt the next time she decided to do stupid shit. Part of her wondered if he was just doing it so she'd be able to block or dodge a few blows if he turned on her again. Especially since his first lesson had been that she shouldn’t be afraid of taking cheap shots. (“So if you come at me like that again, I get to knee you in the balls? Got it.”)

_And heck, knowing self-defense might even help if Hydra came knocking… _

Bucky didn’t go easy on her but she was just glad they were getting along. She was scared he would have gotten mad again after she startled him like that.

Larissa ducked and then not-so-gracefully spun out of the way when Bucky went for another swing. “Okay, okay, I’m done.”

She wiggled her fingers, trying to ease her slightly chapped knuckles before she plopped down and laid back, giving herself a moment to catch her breath. 

The nights were colder now. It wouldn’t be long before it became too cold for them to continue their evening workouts on the roof. 

Her eyes connected the dots of the stars that shimmered on the dark tapestry above. She sighed, letting a cloud of condensation billow up from her lips, as a feeling of sadness rose in her chest. Looking up at the night sky reminded her of Alex. 

She savored the bittersweet memory as Bucky came to sit on the ground beside her. They were both quiet for a while. 

From her place on the ground, Larissa turned her head to look at him. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. She knew his metal arm was the arm closet to her, but like always her kept it hidden underneath several layers of clothing. 

"Can I ask you something?” she asked, finally deciding to ask him about a topic that had been on her mind for a while. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to." 

He looked over at her for a second and nodded.

"Why don’t you want to get Steve involved?" 

They hadn't spoken of Steve since they had gotten to Bucharest. And although she thought of Steve often while ruminating over how the fuck they were ever truly going to be safe, she had never brought up the topic. 

She sat up and patted the little bit of sand that had stuck to her back off of her coat. "I can't help but think that he would be able to help us."

"You don’t know that," he said shortly.

"I know that he'd want to help us," she shrugged. "I may not know him very well but I know that that’s the type of person he is."

"Do we have to talk about him?" 

Bucky’s question wasn’t spiteful. It sounded tired and sad rather than angry. 

She pressed her lips together and let out a deep breath. "I guess not. It’s- Well, I’m thinking about asking the owner of the produce shop down the street for a job. There was a ‘help wanted’ sign and she seems really nice. She takes the time to talk to chat with me in English whenever I go in there. It's just…“ Larissa sighed again and began picking at her fingers. "I don’t know- I feel like I need guidance or just someone telling me what to do next. I feel unsettled. Like, I might make a choice that will make this whole thing come crashing down. I don’t want to do anything wrong. I don’t want it all to be my fault, again.”

"I understand," he mumbled.

"I know I need to just get over it... or something. But I can't help but think about how involving Steve would be a way out." 

She glanced over at him again. His hair hung into his face like a curtain, shielding him off from the rest of the world. 

"I’m sorry,” she said as she shook her head apologetically. “We don’t have to talk about him anymore."

The night sounds of the city echoed around them. Everything felt far away until Bucky spoke.

"He called me by my name. I haven’t felt so known for as long as I can remember." He let out a small huff. "I think he always knew me. And I knew him, back in the day. He could see the good in people." His voice grew soft. "He'll look at me now and see none of that left."

She matched his quiet tone. "You know that that's not true, right?"

He let out an amused huff and rolled his eyes.

"I’m serious!" she retorted. "You came back for me. More than once. There were many times you could’ve left me behind. You didn’t have to do anything to help me but you chose to. There’s tons of good left in you."

"Everything was fuzzy and I just wanted to know what you knew about me. After Steve said my name and then you knew it too... It was easier to just let you show me how you found out.” He absentmindedly traced the ridges between the cement tiles they were sitting on, with his finger. “You were kind to me, even after everything. Even when I didn’t understand why."

A smile crept across her face. She lay back down. After him being so honest with her, she just wanted to help him get his mind onto something easier. "Do you like stars? I like the stars."

"Gee, I hadn’t noticed," he said dryly as he allowed himself to lay back next to her and look up at the night sky. "It’s not like you do this every time we’re up here."

She laughed and pulled her jacket closer, trying to keep out the chill that was starting to color her cheeks. Despite his sarcasm, he listened quietly as she pointed out the different constellations she knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They’re finally getting a bit of a break. They’ve earned it.
> 
> What has been your favorite part of this story so far? Feel free to leave a comment! I’d love to hear from you <3
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!


	35. Chapter 35

With shaky hands and sweaty palms, Larissa entered the fruit and vegetable shop the very next day. She had resisted it, even though it had been her own idea the night before. The possibility of making it a reality had become all the more daunting in the daylight. She would have to go outside…. And talk to _people. _

If it weren’t for the fact that Bucky insisted on walking her there, she would have turned around and marched right back up the 12 flights of stairs before hiding away in her bed forever.

Larissa waited in line, pulling her hands up into her sleeves as she watched the customer in front of her pay. The clerk, a woman who looked to be in her late twenties, said something that made the customer laugh as she bagged the purchased items.  
  


She tried to remind herself that she had nothing to be afraid of. She had talked with the clerk several times before and that had gone perfectly fine.  
  


The clerk spoke a word of greeting and waved as the customer left. The little bell above the door jingled as the door fell shut. The woman’s gaze floated over to Larissa. “Hello, again! What can I get for you today?”

Although she could detect a bit of an accent, the woman had the best English Larissa had heard from anyone in the past month. She couldn’t help but wonder if the woman spoke in that way because of her schooling or because she consumed English entertainment.

“I saw you were looking for help in the shop. I was wondering if you would be willing to consider my application, with to me not speaking Romanian and all...”

The answer had surprised Larissa.

“Sure. I’ll do you one better. I might just hire you on the spot.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“But I didn’t even hand in an actual application-“ Larissa stopped herself, not wanting to say something and make the woman change her mind about considering hiring her.

The woman laughed at Larissa’s stunned expression. “I need an extra pair of hands as soon as possible,” she explained. “My sister used to help out a lot, but she moved away for college a few weeks ago. The only person who applied so far was the son of the Butcher from down the road and he gives me the creeps. Do you have any experience working with food or in retail?”

“No.” Larissa paused for a second, trying to figure out what to say. “I’ve only had a desk job so far.”

The woman’s eyebrows creased. “And you want to come work for a ‘lowly’ produce shop now?” she asked with puzzled amusement.

“Yes, please.”  
  


“I probably can’t pay as much as you are used to-“  
  


“That’s completely fine. I’m willing to work hard no matter the pay.”  
  


“How many hours are you interested in working? I’ve easily got 20 hours of work. I haven’t been able to offer my usual salads and juice selection.”  
  


“Yeah- I’ll take whatever you got.”

They chatted a while longer, the clerk took the time to explain the number of hours Larissa was expected to work. The woman also told her how she had taken over the shop from her father when he had gotten ill two years ago.

“Okay, I have a deal for you,” she said after they had talked for a little while, “I’ll make you a list of the names of all of the fruits and vegetables we sell, in Romanian. And if you promise to learn them, I’ll let you work here.”  
  


“Really?”

“Yeah, but you got to learn them! Most of my customers don’t speak English, and if you want to help, especially on market day, you need to know the basics. I don’t know how else it would work.”

“Of course. My roommate will be able to help me with the pronunciation.”  
  


“Great! How about you come by tomorrow before I open, and we’ll talk over the details, okay?”

“Thank you so much. I’ll be there,” Larissa said with a smile on her face as she began making her way to the door until a sudden thought made her stop in her tracks. “Wait, I just realized that I haven’t even asked you what your name is.”

The woman laughed and extended her hand. “I’m Joana. Nice to meet you.”  
  


“Larissa, likewise,” she said as she shook Joana’s hand. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Larissa still felt like she was shaking as she left the shop, but this time it was because of excitement more than anxiety. She pushed her fears aside, trying to bask in happiness for as long as her anxiety riddle brain would allow her.

Bucky straightened when he saw her walking towards where he was waiting, leaning against the wall outside. “And?” he asked the moment she was within earshot.

“I just officially became the breadwinner of our household.”  
  


He smiled, taking a step backward as he waited for her to catch up with him before he turned and they began waking in the direction of home.

As she told him all about her conversation with Joana, they turned right off of the main road and into a back alley. She was halfway through telling him about how Joanna had taken over the family business when her father had gotten ill when Bucky stopped in his tracks.

He immediately turned to look back before he stepped in front of Larissa and he stared at the cars parked on the right side of the road.

"What is it?" Larissa whispered as she tried to peer over his shoulder.

With the many back doors and cars that were parked on one side of the alley, there were more than enough places for a team to be waiting for them. Her eyes trailed up to the windows and roofs. For all she knew, they were in the sights of a sniper.

_They could’ve been done for the moment they set foot into this street. _

It surprised her to notice that alongside fear, it was disappointment that melted away the excitement she had been feeling just moments earlier.  
  


She could feel her heartbeat in her throat as Bucky began to hasten his steps away from her.  
  


She followed him, trying to stay close. “Bucky-“  
  


He held up a hand and didn’t look back, dismissing her. He had heard something she obviously had missed.

Until she also heard the rustle that came from behind one of the parked cars. _Like someone had stepped on some leaves of a newspaper._

Immediately Bucky drew his weapon and approached systematically.

Tears sprung into her eyes. It took all her strength to stop her from turning and running back into the busy street. Instead, she lowered herself to the ground behind the car and made herself small. She strained her neck to watch Bucky as he silently approached the car.

She prayed it was just the wind.

_This couldn’t be it._ This couldn’t be how they got hauled back.

He slowly rounded the car, weapon still at the ready.  
  


The whole alley was silent.  
  


She held her breath…

Until a small, high pitch mewl broke the silence.

Bucky returned to her side, face blank and weapon hanging limply in his metal hand. He looked a bit flabbergasted as he held out his other hand to help her up. “It’s just a cat.”

"You just almost shot a cat?!” She pushed past him, heading in the direction where the sound had come from.

She furrowed her eyebrows when she saw the pile of windswept trash in the corner behind the parked car. Her knees creaked as she knelt down, trying to getting a closer look.

There, in the corner, huddling under a newspaper and behind some leaves, was a small orange kitten.

“It’s just a baby!” Her enthusiasm quickly turned to outrage when she looked back at Bucky. “You pulled a gun on a baby kitten?”

“I obviously wasn’t going to shoot a cat,” Bucky said defensively, standing a few feet behind her, looking quite lost.

Slowly Larissa extended her hand out toward the little cat but coward further into the corner, preferring to hide in the pile than to let her hand get any closer.

“It’s scared,” she said as she looked over her shoulder again. “Do you hear any more of them?”

She leaned forward, looking under the car parked beside her, in search of a mother or a sibling.

Bucky left to check the other cars and returned to her side within a few minutes. “It looks like the mother cat got hit by a car down over that way. There aren’t any others.”

She lowered her brows as a pang of hurt went through her chest. This poor little baby was all alone.

Larissa sat back on her heels and turned to Bucky. “I feel like a little girl who has to plead with her parents to take let her take the poor lost baby bird home.”

He didn’t smile at her attempt at a joke but she didn’t miss the way his eyes softened ever so slightly. “Do what you want.”

It wasn’t an overexcited yes, but it was enough to know that her roommate didn’t object to her bringing home the poor creature.

She reached back into the pile, mentally pleading the little buddy to let her get to it, but it still squirmed out of reach.

"It's wiggling away. I don’t want to hurt it.”

Bucky sighed and stripped off his jacket before he held it out to her. “Drape this over it.”

She sent him a thankful smile and carefully placed the jacket over the kitten and scooping it up.

The kitten trembled in her grasp as they walked the rest of the way home.

**________________________________**

The little kitten got a spot in a carton box on the floor not far from her bed. She had filled with the plushest towel she could find in their bathroom at that moment. Now she was struggling to get the little thing to eat. She had figured it would be hungry, but it was trying to get away from the spoon of milk instead of being enticed by it. She tried to speak words of encouragement to the little creature, but it obviously wasn't helping.

At the same time, she couldn’t blame it. The world must be pretty scary when everything is giant compared to you.

“Come on, buddy. You need to eat to live.”

Bucky quietly watched from the sofa as she tried to get the little animal to eat from the spoon.  
  


“What if it doesn’t want to live?”  
  


She paused, looking up from the carton box. She pressed her lips together and looked back at him over her shoulder.  
  


He avoided eye contact with her.

She could tell he regretted asking the question and letting his inner turmoil glare through. His words held more meaning, and he knew that she could tell.  
  


“Well,” she said simply as she searched for words, “I don’t think it doesn’t want to live. It’s just afraid.”  
  


She turned her attention back to the cat. The little thing was scared of her, but she was calm but persistent, and after a while, it seemed to settle down a little bit and took a few timid licks of milk.  
  


“See?”

His stare was blank when she looked back at him triumphantly.

“When I was young, my parents never let me bring home stray animals. I liked going out into the woods and would always find little injured birds, but they’d never let me take them inside. I had a little box out in the garage hangar where I would leave them, close to the door. They’d stay a few days, eat the food and water I brought, and then they would be gone.”

She paused, a small smile spread across her face. “You get to name him.”

“Why?”

“Because. He needs a name. It used to be one of my conditions for the creature to get better. It needed a name.” She stood up, walked to the kitchen and rinsed the spoon in the sink. “And don’t even think about naming her after some type of weapon," she added quickly. "It’s a kitten for crying out loud."  
  


He rolled his eyes and let out an amused huff as he turned to sit against the armrest of the sofa.

She braced herself for his suggestion when he raised his eyebrows and his face broke out into a boyish grin.

“Okay, Bucky Junior.”

“We're _not_ calling him Bucky Junior.”  
  


“_You_ told me to name him,” he quipped.  
  


“Not something stupid!”  
  


“My name isn’t stupid.”

She deadpanned. “We’re not calling the kitten Bucky junior.”

She turned back to the kitchen and shook her head as she began collecting the ingredients for dinner.

“What about Cheddar?” he asked after a little while.

“Like the cheese?” she asked, holding up the package she had out on the countertop. A smile spread across her face.

“Yeah," Bucky said bashfully, "He’s the same color.”

She couldn't help but smile at the way his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

“That’s cute. I like it.”

**________________________________**

Darkness surrounded them sometime later, both in their respective sleeping arrangements (and Cheddar in his box in the corner). Bucky adjusted himself, trying to find a more comfortable position on the sofa.  
  


“Bucky?”  
  


His eyes flashed over to where Larissa was laying on the mattress, bundled in her sleeping bag. He thought she had fallen asleep a while ago, although it didn’t surprise him that he wasn’t aware of her being awake. He had been staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought for over an hour now.

He hummed in response.  
  


Larissa didn't say anything for a moment before she finally spoke. “I want you to want to live.”  
  


He didn’t answer her but her words warmed him and cut into him at the same time. Someone wanted him to live, even if he didn’t know if he did.  
  


He didn’t quite know how to feel about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m currently writing this with a cat curled up on my lap. May you be blessed by the power of kitty snuggles.
> 
> I kinda don’t like the beginning of this chapter (and how I introduced Joana) but to quote a meme...“It is what it is”. I figured I’d just post it like this and if I really want to change it maybe I will later on.
> 
> On the other hand, I kinda really like the ending part of this chapter because:  
• Kitties are amazing and I love them and I want to protect them forever;   
• I kind of love the last lil Bucky pov part. I think I just really like writing slightly angst Bucky pov.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Have a nice day!


	36. Chapter 36

The morning rush was over, and shafts of sunlight stretched across the tiled floor, leaving the little shop in an early afternoon glow. This was only her third day working in the shop, but Larissa had been busy. That morning, she had neatly filled the bins of vegetables that were lined against the walls of the shop and took the time to arrange the contents neatly. After that, she had pressed enough fresh orange juice to satisfy a small village. And that was only before the shop opened.

Today, Joana had asked her to help a few people in the store, which had given Larissa the chance to practice her fall/winter vegetable vocabulary when one of the customers was looking for a particular ingredient. Other than getting ‘dovleac’ (pumpkin) confused with ‘dovlecel’ (zucchini), she hadn’t done half bad. Besides, pointing and nodding got her far enough.

Although speaking was a whole different story, she was starting to recognize the pronunciation of the more common fruits and veggies after only a few days of practice. Bucky was to thank. She had found out that he was just a meticulous with making her repeat the words as he was with making her do reps.

The little jingly bell that hung over the doorframe still rung quietly as a customer Joana had helped had just left. From where Larissa was sitting, she could see the older woman cross the street and greet a man she seemed to know. Larissa smiled, appreciating the wholesome interaction.

“So…Do you, like, know anyone around here?”

Larissa turned her attention to her boss, who had just hopped up onto the counter and let her legs dangle over the edge. Joana was a friendly sort of woman. One of those types of people who you just knew could keep a conversation going with anyone they met. Larissa liked her, although Joana’s directness took Larissa of guard sometimes.

“No, not really. Why?”

“I’m just curious why you would move to Bucharest. Like out of all of the cities in Europe. If I could go anywhere right now, I would go to Paris or Amsterdam – they speak good English in Amsterdam and they have weed-” Joana stopped her tangent to sneeze. The action seemed to make her realize she had gone off on a rant. “Sorry. No offense- I was just wondering.“

“None taken. It’s a bit of a fucked up story, actually." Larissa pressed her lips together as she searched for words. "But I'll have to tell you about it another time.”

When a look of concern crossed Joana's face, Larissa quickly added: “It’s just that- I don’t want to get emotional about it all right now.”

“We’ll save it for another time," Joana said with a smile and a nod. "Speaking of time…I think we’re almost done for today. Friday afternoons are slow, so we can start cleaning up here.” She hopped off of the counter and turned to busy herself with the cash register.“Do you have any plans for tonight?”

Larissa shook her head, feeling slightly unsure of what was going to come next.

“Some of my friends and I are going to meet at a bar later. Would you like to come?”

Larissa’s eyebrows creased. “They wouldn’t mind a stranger tagging along?”

“Nah, and besides, you’re not a stranger.”

_Fuck it._

“What time are you meeting up?”

**________________________________**

When she got back to the apartment after work, she found Bucky writing in his journal with Cheddar curled up on the other end of the sofa, a few inches away from Bucky’s feet. Over the past few days, Cheddar had become less skittish and more curious about the apartment and its inhabitants. Although he had yet to become accustomed to petting, they were taking things slow and giving the tiny cat time to get used to them. 

When she first told Bucky about her going out that night, he had been reluctant, but eventually, he gave in. She assured him that it wasn’t going to be a big deal. In doing so, she realized that she was trying to convince herself just as much as she was trying to convince him.

She was just hoping she wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb... or have a panic attack. 

Larissa and Joana hadn't talked all that much yet either. _What if this would make Joana realize that she had hired a terrified introvert who could barely share anything she had experienced in the past few months without causing alarm bells to go off by anyone who listened?_

After some extra encouragement from Joana, who she met up with outside of the shop, Larissa ended up in a packed bar in old town on that Friday night, surrounded by a group of Joana’s friend. 

The group of friendly faces all listened as Joana introduced her. Any questions about her past were answered with few details. But she tried to stick to the truth as much as remotely possible. 

_"I moved here from D.C. a few months ago after the death of my mom_." Dead relatives seemed to be a topic most people wanted to stay clear from.

They welcomed her like she was one of them, and it wasn’t long before her anxiety began to melt away.

Florin immediately set out for the bar, claiming that she wouldn’t truly be welcomed into their group until she was holding a beer. Joana pointed at Daniel and Corinda as she took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “Don’t sit next to them,” Joana joked, “there’s way too much p.d.a.”

The couple in question had protested loudly to that.

Maria had offered up her chair to Larissa and had quickly returned with another one, pulling it up so she could sit next to her.

Larissa had to admit, this was a nice change of pace and scenery. She hadn’t done anything like this for a long time.

“Are you okay?” Joana asked after a little bit, leaning in so that the others couldn’t hear. She must have caught the way Larissa took in the people around her with a wistful look.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”

“You don’t go out much, do you?”

Larissa laughed and shook her head. “Crowds make me uneasy.”

“I’m glad you joined us, though!” Maria chimed in, from Larissa's other side. “Joana was all excited after she hired you-“

“Hey, don’t expose me!”

“I think her excitement has more to do with the fact that she didn’t have to hire the son of the butcher than it has to do with me,” Larissa said with a laugh.

“No!" Joana reassured her before she smiled sheepishly, "-well okay. I’m happy about that too. It's just that there aren't many 28-year-olds who have their own shops. You’re really sweet and I’m excited about having someone closer to my age to help out.”

Larissa blushed and waved off the compliment.

The chatter at the table of friends went between group conversations and chats amongst themselves. Maria was halfway through telling a story about a disastrous date she had gone on recently when Joana interrupted her.

“Sorry to interrupt, but speaking of men with cute beards and possibly undiagnosed issues… I don’t want to scare you, Larissa. But there’s a guy up at the bar that has been staring at you off and on. I saw him looking earlier, and I thought he was just checking you out or something but now… He’s definitely keeping an eye on you.”

Larissa’s eyes widened as she whipped around. _They had found her and were waiting for the right moment to-._

Her panic stopped when her eyes met the all too familiar ones of the man who was sitting all the way in the back corner at the bar. He looked away when he saw she had seen him.

Larissa let out a sigh and then grumbled, “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” 

“Wait, you know him?” Joana asked, placing a soft hand on Larissa’s arm and pointing over her shoulder towards the bar.

“Yeah…” 

“Are you going to be okay?”

Larissa nodded, a grateful smile played at her lips. “Thanks for asking, though.”

She picked up on a _“Dang, he’s cute.” _as she left the group and made her way over to Bucky. She wove through the people until she was standing behind him. He casually took a sip of the beer he had been drinking and gave her a little nod in greeting.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be there. “Watching soccer.”

She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head. “What’s the score?”

He smiled and took another sip of his beer.

_That damn fool wasn’t watching soccer. _

“I was fine walking back by myself. It’s not far, and everything has been calm since we got here.” 

“What can I say,” A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, “I think I’ve grown protective over you.” 

It was true, and they both knew it. They had grown closer over the last few weeks. A sense of contentment hung over them, even when they were both doing their own thing at the apartment. On the days she had worked so far, he had been waiting for her across the street. She had playfully scolded him, claiming she didn't need a babysitter, but really, she was just happy to have someone who cared enough to listen to her talk about her day.

“Besides," he continued, "I thought you said that getting fresh air is good for the brain.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

His eyes flickered to something behind her. Larissa turned to see that Joana was making her way through the crowd over to them. Larissa turned to Bucky and mouthed '_Be nice!’ _before her new friend reached them. 

As she emerged from the crowd, Joana stuck out her hand toward Bucky. “Hi, I’m Joana. I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

Bucky eyed Joana’s hand for a second before shaking it. “James.” 

She had never heard him use his given name before but it probably was a smart call. James was far more common than Bucky. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd always gone by Bucky or if people used to call him James.

“Nice to meet you, James. Would you like to come and join us? There is more than enough space. Daniel and Corinda just left, and trust me,” Joana turned to Larissa, ”That’s a good thing because they were looking like they were about to jump each other.”

Bucky ended up in the seat next to her. He kept his gloved metal hand out of sight under the table as introductions were made. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the way he nervously tapped his fingers on his leg as he took in the little group they had been welcomed into. She was surprised he had agreed to sit with them in the first place.

“So, James, what do you do?”

“Security.”

Larissa took a drink to hide her amusement. _Security._ _Saying he worked in security in their situation was a bit of an understatement._

“Security as in patrolling buildings at night?” Florin perked up from his seat. “Have you ever gotten to like, knock out a trespasser?”

“Not on a daily basis,” Bucky said, trying to play it off as a joke. If his goal was to quell Florin’s interest, it didn’t seem to work. His answer only made the bubbly man more intrigued.

“But you’ve done it before?! That’s sweet, man! Do you get to carry any weapons?-”

“Florin,” Joana interrupted her excited friend. "This isn’t like one of your videogames. He’s not an assassin-dark knight-vigilante...”

Larissa cringed inwardly, trying to gauge Bucky’s reaction. 

He waved the comment off with a shrug and a small smile.

“Security work is mostly just watching feeds anyway,” Larissa added quickly, hoping to move the conversation elsewhere. “It’s pretty tedious.” _She would know._

She was glad when the conversation moved from Bucky’s ‘work’ to the far more neutral topic of Florin’s obscene gaming habits. She saw the way Bucky’s smile fell the moment the attention was off of him. 

When he finally took his eye off of a group that was laughing louder than was appropriate for the joke and looked at her, she gave him an encouraging smile. “Let me know if you need to leave, okay?”

He nodded and adjusted himself in his chair before his eyes followed Florin and Joana, who were off to the bar to get another round of drinks for their table.

Maria, who was sitting to her left, nudged her gently with her elbow. “You guys are cute together. How long have been dating?”

“What?” Larissa sputtered. “Oh no- We’re not together.”

Maria raised her eyebrows with a smile. 

“We’re just roommates!”

Larissa's explanation wasn’t enough to wipe the smug look off of Maria’s face. “Whatever you say.”

Larissa was about to make a comment of protest when Florin returned, put down the drinks he carried, and then plopped a little box of UNO cards on the table. 

Joana, who was right behind Florin with the rest of their drinks, sighed as she gave a glass of beer to Larissa and put another one in front of Bucky, who hadn’t completely finished his drink. “Sorry guys. I tried to talk him out of Drunk UNO but it’s a feat that even I am not strong enough to accomplish.”

Larissa looked over at Bucky, but if he had heard her conversation with Maria he didn’t show it. He was eying the colorful cards that Florin was now shuffling and dealing with ease.

Suddenly it hit her. _How the hell were they going to explain the fact that Bucky didn’t know how to play UNO? Everyone knows how to play UNO._

**________________________________**

The evening air felt good on her warm cheek. Although it wasn’t Winter yet, the air had a bite to it that was sharp enough to make her burrow her hands into the pockets of her jacket. She was glad for the way the alcohol warmed her from the inside.

From outside of the bar, she could see that Florin, Joana, and Maria were also gathering their coats now. She turned around to wait for Bucky, who was closing the door behind himself.

“Whatever was in that last drink was strong,” Larissa commented.

She wasn’t quite wobbly per see. It was more that she just couldn’t seem to focus on her surroundings enough to be sure of the right direction. 

“It really wasn’t that strong. You just kept losing the game.” 

“Yeah, thanks to you! You kept on giving me all your ‘_Draw 4’_ cards,” she said with an amused huff. “You’re lucky that you’re a fast learner because they all thought you were joking when you said you didn’t know how to play UNO.”

Bucky laughed under his breath before he stuck his right elbow out at her, offering her his arm as support. 

She looked at it bewildered for a moment before looking up at him. 

“I don’t want you falling off the sidewalk,” Bucky said when he saw her surprised look.

She was thankful for the cover of darkness when her cheeks flushed as she thought back to the conversation with Maria.

“Probably a good idea,” she said as she slipped her arm through his. 

_At least this way she didn’t have to think about where she was going. _

Larissa talked excitedly the whole way back and was too tipsy to notice that Bucky watched her with a smile as he guided her through the streets towards home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *squeals because of the cuteness*
> 
> I’ve been soooo close to being done editing this chapter for the past two days, but I keep on getting interrupted!!! 
> 
> I’m not one to go out drinking, but writing about a packed bar is giving me pre-covid nostalgia. I wish covid was over so I could go hang out with my friends and play some games.
> 
> Hope you are well! Thanks for stopping by!


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry early Christmas! Hahaha, I swear I didn’t even plan this! Somehow the ‘Christmas chapter’ magically got completed in the week before Christmas. IT’S A FLIPPING CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.

The door of the music store was heavy, and the warm air that blasted in her face caught her off guard but the moment Larissa was inside, she could feel the atmosphere of the old music store was special. The store was quaint with its dark wooden floorboards and mismatched shelves of music books. A grand piano and an assortment of other instruments were scattered across the space. There was no clear path between them, leaving customers to meander through the store according to their own path. 

Time seemed to move slower than it did on the bustling street outside. 

Also, the little speakers were playing Chrismassy jazz instead of blasting a certain Mariah Carey song (that shall remain unnamed for all of our sanities). That was a big plus in Larissa's books. Every year her heart went out to all of the retail workers who had to endure the repetitive Christmas songs and cranky customers during this season. 

She greeted the shopkeeper with a smile and strolled by the guitar collection towards the back of the store where she spotted what she was looking for. 

The back wall of the shop was lined with bins of records, ranging from old secondhand copies of legendary artists to brand-spanking-new pop music. 

Although there were a few other people in the store, at the back of the shop everything felt calm and safe.

Larissa began flicking through the bins, unsure of what she was looking for. 

When she had found a working record player at the thrift store a few weeks ago, she had bought it immediately. The thing was a bit dinky and very retro-looking, but she knew it would make a perfect Christmas present for her unsuspecting roommate. 

Mr. Gheorghe had broken out into a smile when she had asked him if she could keep the record player at his place, as to not spoil the surprise. 

“Domnule ursuz (_Mr. Grumpy_) will be happy, I think,” he had said as he placed the record player on a side table in his living room. “It is a good gift.” 

Larissa couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be able to get it back from him when she saw how he eyed the record player with a little too much enthusiasm. 

Even though Mr. Gheorghe had agreed that Bucky would like the gift, it was starting to feel a little lame now that she was flipping through records. _What type of music did someone like who’s musical knowledge stopped in the 1940ss?_

She searched through the bins aimlessly….until she flicked past it.

She quickly flipped back to the record and pulled it out of the bin. Seeing the fragmented landscapes of Bon Iver’s self-titled album up-close made her realize that she had never had truly appreciated the detail of the artwork. The earthy watercolor matched the feeling the music always gave her. Immediately she could see him writing in his notebook with this album in the background. The image caused a smile to spread across her lips.

Her smile faded when another thought popped into her mind. The shock of it made her put down the record and take a step back. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat. Her eyes darted to the other customers, but none of them noticed her sudden burst of panic. 

She tried to flash the clerk a smile (she assumed it looked more like a grimace) as she zipped up her jacket and rushed out of the store.

She tried to push the thought away as the soles of her shoes thumped on the ground. But it was no use. It was as if something in her mind had just clicked into place.

_She liked him._

Not just as a friend or as a weird roommate. She liked him as a person. _As a partner_.

Good God.

She wandered through the streets, giving her mind the freedom to swarm this new development in a helpless attempt at making sense of it.

It would be lying to herself to say she hadn’t felt it for a while. She had always cared about him in the way she cared for everyone she met. But this was different. She'd never given herself the chance to think of him in this way. 

That night in the cafe Maria had seen something in her that she hadn't been able to see in herself.

Larissa stopped, combed her fingers into her curls, and let out an exasperated sigh. _Why did her feelings have to make everything more complicated?_

They had been through some tough shit together. He had saved her on more than one occasion. He had made sure she had gotten to safety. They took care of each other. Maybe that was what was fucking with her feelings? She had formed some type of bond with him over their shared trauma and escape. 

If that was the case, that only made it more difficult. How was that okay morally? How would a relationship be healthy for either of them?

The street she had been marching down opened up into Parcul Unirii. The sight of the park made her hurry to catch the green light at the crosswalk. She needed to get out of the shopping crowd. After walking deeper into the park, she sat down on one of the park benches and looked out over the fountain pool that mirrored the grey winter sky. She slung her bag off of her back and held it close to her chest.

Her whole life, she'd never been in a relationship before. She'd never gotten the chance to, really. And aside from the occasional teen crushes, she had had on one or two of the good-looking guards at the compound, she hadn't been seriously interested in anyone before.

While the kids she grew up with started dating, she was left to imagine what it would be like to have a boyfriend. To kiss. To make love. 

She used to gag when people tried to tease her by making kissy sounds at her and Alex. Even though she and Alex had been close, they weren't close in that way. He had been like a brother to her. The thought of kissing him had always been…_gross_. 

But now, so many years later, the thought of kissing Bucky… She closed her eyes and massaged her temples, cringing at her infatuation. _What in God's name was happening to her?_

The tourist around her melted away as the sides of her vision went blurry.

The thoughts of her childhood made her think back to the little girl that she had been. So lively and innocent, and completely oblivious to the horrors that were taking place in the research facility she called home. 

Her life had been a lie. And when she had tried to set things right...She felt bile rise in her throat at the thought. She hated how clearly she could still recall Brock's face. _"I will break you." _

She closed her eyes, blinking the tears away before grounding herself in reality. She curled her fingers tightly around the edge of the bench and tried to listen to the sounds of people and traffic.

Her breaths slowed.

She wasn't ready to be someone's person. Not yet. The little girl that still lived inside of her was still hurting and vulnerable. 

Besides, she couldn’t expect Bucky to be ready for something like that when he had been through far more than she had. They had come so far. She’d be a fool if she let these feelings ruin the trust they had built in each other. 

Her feelings would pass if she just let them be. They had to pass… for both her and Bucky’s sake.

**________________________________**

After they ate breakfast together on Christmas morning, it had been easy enough for Larissa to slip out of the apartment under the ruse of going to do laundry. Bucky’s eyebrows creased when she came back with a basket of gifts instead of clean clothes. 

He sat up on the sofa, placing his sock-clad feet on the ground again, and stared at her with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “You got me a gift?”

Larissa couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face if she wanted to. She placed the basket on the ground and carefully placed the gifts on the sofa before she sat down on the other side. Cheddar, who had been sleeping contently on the back of the sofa, hopped down to inspect the packages. 

“Go on,” she said with a nod as she coaxed Cheddar onto her lap and began petting him. “Open the big one first.”

Bucky opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again, all the while looking at her like she had grown antlers. “But- I didn’t get you anything.“

“Accept the gift, you dingus”

He held her gaze for a second longer before he rolled his eyes and pulled the present onto his lap. 

After spending almost half a year around him, she could confidently describe Bucky as a methodical person. But as she watched him boyishly tearing the wrapping paper, she learned that his structured approach didn’t extend to opening gifts. She liked him better for it.

His gaze went soft with admiration when he revealed the record player. He was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.” 

She let out a huff of disagreement, which made Cheddar’s ears angle towards her. “Don’t look at me. Santa decided that you deserve a Christmas present.”

He shot her an unamused look, which made her laugh. 

Bucky looked back down. Something in his face flickered, the briefest trace of sadness overcame his features as he traced his flesh fingers over the side of the record player. He stopped himself, seeming to remember that she was still there. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Larissa handed him the stack of records that she had wrapped together. After her revelation, she had pulled herself together and gone back for the Bon Iver record, choosing to buy a few classics along with it. “I didn’t know what type of music you used to like. We can go look and see if we can find anything familiar to you but it might be a bit of a hunt.”

“No, I bet these are great,” he said as he unwrapped the albums. He let out an amused huff when he fanned out the small stack. “The fact that 3 of these are ‘the greatest hits of’ albums makes me feel like you are schooling me in music history.”

“I can’t let you continue on with your life without knowing about the Beatles, Queen, and Elvis Presley. I would be committing a crime by not educating you.” 

He rolled his eyes and continued to inspect the brightly colored covers, taking the time to read over the tracklists, even though he didn't know any of the songs. “What’s this one?” He asked after a while holding up Bon Iver's self-titled album.

Warmth spread across her cheeks. “A personal favorite.”

Needless to say, the way his eyes glittered with genuine joy when he dropped the needle on a record didn’t help with her plan of ‘letting her feelings pass’.

But she had to do it.

It would be for the better. 

In the long run. 

_Hopefully._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for stopping by. I know I’ve said it before but seeing the sweet comments just warms my heart. Thank you for the positivity and enthusiasm!
> 
> Christmas morning Bucky must be protected from the world.
> 
> Honestly though, they kind of already are each other’s person.
> 
> Dammmmnnnn…. Marvel went off with all of those announcements and sneak peek trailers the other day. I’m very excited about the Loki series. I’m also excited for the Falcon and the Winter Soldier but to be completely honest, I thought the banter was a bit meh. I’m still really excited to see where they take the story and how Sam and Bucky are going to uphold the ‘Captain America legacy’. The Captain America score at the end gave me goosebumps tbh. Also, short-haired Bucky is giving me all the feels.
> 
> Okay, peace out! Be nice to people. Go eat a Christmas cookie! Happy Holidays!


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Self harm (Bucky tries to rip his metal arm off in a dream)

This wasn’t the first time it had happened. Bucky remembered enough to recall a few other incidents. The scars that encircled the place where his skin ended and metal began were proof of the countless times he’d woken up clawing at his own mangled body.

He held his hand underneath the cold running tap, rinsing the blood off of his fingers and under his nails.

He looked up, making contact with his own dead eyes in the mirror. His arm shone in the light above the sink. It was a stark contrast to the angry red and bloodied skin around it. He set his jaw.

No matter how long he had his bionic limb, it seemed that he still hadn’t accepted it fully. _He hated that this still happened to him._

Bucky’s face softened when Cheddar, who had grown an awful lot in the last few months, waltzed into the bathroom, curled his tail around the doorpost, and let out a meow. 

He shushed the cat gently. “You don’t want to wake up your mother.” 

But it was too late. In the other room, a rustle of a sleeping bag could be heard.

He was more to blame than Cheddar. He had left the door ajar, allowing a thin beam of light to shine into the other room. _Stupid. _He should have thought about closing it.

“Are you okay?” 

It wasn’t long before Larissa was standing in the door opening, bed-headed and bleary-eyed. Her brows were furrowed as she took in the scene in front of her.

His shirt had been abandoned in a little pile on the floor. Blood was leaking from one of the deeper gashes. It tickled his skin as it traveled down his side. And Cheddar, of course, was now standing between Bucky’s legs, tail coiled around Bucky's shin and looking up at his two humans without a care in the world.

“I’m okay,” he rasped as he turned off the faucet, dried his hands, and reached for some toilet paper, hoping to stop the trail of blood before it got on his shorts. 

Larissa grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink, before reaching out to take the wad of paper from him.

He stilled when their fingers brushed together, but he didn’t give it to her. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to help you.” 

He released it with a sigh and sat down on the closed toilet lid. He let his eyes fall shut. They stung. The light still felt too bright. But closing his eyes brought him back to the blood-splattered room, and he didn’t want to be there ever again. 

She was quiet as she cleaned and disinfected his skin. Now that the blood was absorbed, he knew that his bumpy scars were more visible.

He sighed again, feeling the need to explain. At least thinking about what he had done to himself was better than thinking about the atrocities he had committed. “This isn’t the first time. I've scratched myself so hard it scared.” The metal segments in his fingers shifted as he turned his hand in his lap, inspecting his bionic fingers as they contracted and extended. “It was a hard thing to get used to.”

  
“Does it hurt?”

“The scratches?"

“No, your arm.”

  
“Sometimes. It’s a big thing to be lugging around all of the time." He shrugged. “It’s heavy.“

  
Both physically and mentally, the burden of his arm wore on him. It was a weapon he could never put a safety on. When he was the soldier it had never mattered. But now… He always felt like he was one slip away from hurting her as it was. Having a weapon for an arm didn’t help.

She put a bandage over one of the deeper gashes before going over to the sink and washing her hands.  
  


He closed his eyes as he turned away and threaded his hand into his hair. His brain hurt. Not the hurt of an icepick headache that the wiping would leave him with. It was a dull nagging hurt that was the result of nightmares and self-hatred.  
  


He could still feel his ears ringing. He could smell the metallic scent of blood in the air. And if he let himself go there in his mind, he could feel the way the faceless victim thrashed in his grip before he snapped their neck. With a thump, their body joined the others on the floor, leaving him standing in the midst of the dead.

His hands were covered in their blood.

He could still feel the panic that welled up in him. And as he faded from the soldier back into a man, he fought himself. He desperately pried his own flesh fingers into his shoulder. The sound was sickening, but his own screams of pain were loud enough to mask it for the most part. His body felt like it was on fire. But he would do anything. Anything to make it just fucking stop.

It was no use. The soldier froze his limbs before he could get a good enough grip on his shoulder. He choked on his own breath.

He had no control over himself when the next faceless person was pushed into the room.  
  


“Let’s go for a walk.”

He snapped out of his thoughts and glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowing at her suggestion.

“Just for a little bit. It’ll help clear your head.”

It wasn’t long before the two were walking along the Dâmbovița river. The city was quiet except for the sound of people talking in a bar somewhere across the way. They walked in silence for the most part, but he welcomed the cold air in his lung after feeling so panicked earlier. He could tell she was tired by the way she burrowed into her jacket, trying to find some of the warmth she had given up to go outside with him.

  
When they walked past a little parking area, his eyes were drawn to a group of motorcycles that were parked on the side. More specifically, the keys that had been left in one of the bikes.

  
_This was exactly what he needed._

“Uh- What are you doing?” she asked as she perked up from her sleepy haze when he began making his way over to the motorcycles.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’m just borrowing it.”

  
Her jaw dropped and she hurried after him. “You mean _stealing_? Do I need to remind you of all of the other times we ‘borrowed’ vehicles, because you sure as hell didn’t bring any of them back,” Larissa whisper-yelled as she franticly looked around to make sure no one was out and about.

“It’ll be fun,” he answered with a shrug as he took the motorcycle off of the kickstand and he walked it back over towards her. “Besides, who the hell leaves their keys in their motorcycle?”

“There are other ways to have fun that are _legal_.”

  
He ignored her comment with an eye roll and held the handlebars out in her direction. “Here.”

Larissa took a step back, holding her hands up in defense. “Oh, hell no. You’re not involving me in this.”

“It’s fine. I’ll teach you.” He liked teaching her things.

“I’m not doing it,” Larissa said with a shake of her head. “But this is one thing that you don’t have to teach me. I’ve been riding around on dirtbikes and snowmobiles since I was a kid. Not much else to do at a SHIELD base in the middle of nowhere .”  
  


His jaw went slack. “And you’re telling me this just now?!”  
  


“It never really came up, I guess.”

“Yeah, definitely not relevant to our major road trip. Need I remind you of how far _I_ drove?”

“Hey, I drove too!” she exclaimed. “You’re not guilting me into anything.”  
  


He raised his brown and nodded, feigning agreement.

She shook her head and looked back over her shoulder, checking the road behind them.

“Larissa.” Bucky tried to hide his smile. “Catch.”

He let go of the handlebars of the bike, causing it to fall in Larissa’s direction. She let out a yelp and scrambled to grab ahold of the seat just before actually fell over completely.

The moment she had pulled the motorcycle back upright, Bucky swung his leg over and settled into the back seat, smiling at her innocently.

Larissa shot him an unamused look.

“What? I want to go for a ride.”

“It’s illegal to steal.”

“We’re fugitives. Everything we do is illegal. We’ll put it back when we’re done.”

Larissa rolled her eyes, but a small smile broke through her façade. He let out a huff._ She couldn’t fool him. _

She swung her leg over the seat and balanced the motorcycle with her legs on the ground as she gathered her hair together at the top of her head. With a quick succession of motions, she put her hair up into a bun. She turned the keys that were dangling from the ignition and the bike roared to life. 

With a smirk, she looked over her shoulder. “You better hold on, loser.” 

He wrapped his flesh arm around her middle but hesitated for a second with his metal arm, realizing suddenly that he hadn’t quite thought this part through. His decision-making process was cut short when Larissa revved the engine, and they sped off into the fresh night air. 

The burst of cold made his eyes water, but he eagerly blinked the moisture away so he could take in their surroundings. Streetlights. Shops. Houses. Apartment buildings. Billboards. The scenery flew by. All he could do was take in the colors of the dark city around them.

He wrapped his arms around her more securely, becoming increasingly aware of how her frame felt wrapped in his arms. She was small compared to him. He could feel the way her body moved as she rode the motorcycle with more confidence than he would have expected. 

His cheeks flushed with more than just the cold. He had wished he could be physically closer to her many times before, but for the first time, he gave in. He leaned forward and rested his cheek against her shoulder.

For the next 20 minutes, Bucky was just some guy on the back of a motorcycle, enjoying the view and holding onto a pretty girl.

**________________________________**

His fingers were tingling by the time they made it back to the apartment building. Larissa seemed to be having the same problem as she struggled to unlock the main door that led to the stairwell. 

She let out an over-exaggerated groan when she dropped the keys after messing with the lock for a bit. 

“Let me get it.” He picked up the keys and easily unlocked the door in one fluid movement using his metal arm. He looked back over his shoulder and cocked one eyebrow at her as he pushed the door open with his other shoulder. 

“Don’t be getting all smug on me. I bet your other hand is just as cold as mine.” 

He sucked in a short breath as her icy fingers wrapped around his.

“What did I tell you.” She chuckled as he pushed past him into the stairwell and pulled him along, not releasing his hand from her grasp until she began to ascend the stairs.

She looked back at him from a few steps up. “Nice hair, by the way.” 

He shook his head, ruffing his windswept hair back into a less gravity-defying position before following her.

“You’re one to talk,” he added lamely, _and probably way too late._

Her bun had come partially undone, resulting in a curly, poofy mess. She looked cute, especially with her rosy cheeks and nose.

“What? You don’t like my new look?” she asked as she jokingly began posing. “It’s called motorcycle chic.” 

He cracked a smile and continued up the stairs.

The current moment couldn’t feel more opposite to what he had been feeling before they had gone outside. The horrors of his nightmare seemed far away. That’s just what she did to him. He slowed to a stop.

If Bucky was asked to describe a moment he knew, he wouldn’t be able to. He had fallen slowly. Between the notebook on his doorstep and her making him dinner. Somewhere between her combing out her unruly hair after showering and the unamused looks she gave him before she broke out into a laugh. Maybe it was when he realized that he rather watch the way the colors of the fireworks illuminated her face than of the sky on New Year's Eve. Or maybe he knew because of the way she listened to him, patiently, allowing him to put fragments of his thoughts into words. 

He didn’t know when. He just knew he was.

The feeling was shocking after not knowing anything other than the icy cold and fear and numbness. It was like a warm shower after being locked out in the snow. It made his skin tingle, his limbs shake, and his stomach flip. And in the best way possible, it was like he was awaking from the cryostasis chamber all over again. 

Bucky finally understood what being awake could feel like.

He must have been standing still for a moment too long because Larissa turned around, realizing he stopped following her. She threw him a questioning look. 

Bucky swallowed hard, feeling a bit caught, with her looking at him while he thought these thoughts. The past few months he had tried as much as possible to not entertain these thoughts and feelings. It had been necessary. But he didn't want to hide any longer.

“You-“ a crease formed between his brows as he tried to put what he felt into words. “You make me feel like life is worth living.”

Her concerned face softened.

Both of their breaths could be heard in the silence that followed. She didn't take her eyes off of him as she waited, expectantly, for him to continue. 

He felt like he could start hyperventilating any moment now. 

Instead, he reached out and picked up a curl that had fallen into her face and tucked the fluffy strands behind her ear. Even though she was a step above him, she still was shorter.

An adorable blush flushed her cheeks, but her eyes were still big and inquisitive. “Bucky-“

“Can I kiss you?” The words tumbled out before he even realized what he was saying.

Her eyes went wide, and he froze with immediate regret. 

_This was it_. He had made things weird. He was going to have to move out. He stood up straighter and pulled back.

She reached out and grabbed his wrist before he was able to step away. Electricity shot up into his arm and caused his stomach to flip-flop in a way he was embarrassed to admit.

Slowly her hand moved down, tracing her thumb over his slightly chapped knuckles. 

He glanced down at her hand before looking back up to her eyes. 

She was still looking up at him expectantly, mouth slightly parted. She was holding her breath, he noticed. 

His heart was in his throat. A cowardly part of him wanted to run. But Bucky Barnes was no coward.

He leaned in, slowly, until his lips were a breath away from hers.

Their lips barely brushed over each other, neither of them moving… until she leaned in further, kissing him back. Bucky couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across his lips if he tried. 

She pulled away slightly, keeping her forehead against his. “This isn’t going to work if you keep smiling like an idiot-” Her words were muffled when he leaned back into her.

Her hand let go of his and slowly made its way up his arm and over his shoulder before coming to rest on the side of his neck. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in closer. His metal arm remained motionless at his side.

A shiver ran down her spine when he swiped his tongue across her lips. Her fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

When they pulled away to catch their breathe her fingers left his hair but her hand stayed resting on his shoulder. 

Larissa's cheeks flushed. She let out a little laugh before she closed her eyes and let her head fall forward against his chest. 

He smiled and rested his head on top of hers, basking in the giddy feeling of happiness and enjoying the warmth of holding her for the first time.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted shyly.

“Two months,” she said with a muffled laugh.

“What?”

“I realized I had feelings for you two months ago while buying you your Christmas present. Then I ran out of the shop and had a panic attack about it.”

He let out a huff and pulled back from her a bit so he could look her in the eye. “I didn't say anything. I was scared to make things weird between us.”

Her face fell slowly. His eyebrows lowered as he watched the happiness melt from her. 

_Had he done something wrong? Was she regretting this? Was he going to have to leave after all?_

“There is one thought that I haven’t been able to shake,” she said. Her voice was soft. “What if we only are feeling this because of what we went through together?”

Bucky’s flesh fingers bunched into the loose material of her jacket as he let her words sink in. He hadn't thought of that. He didn’t know how the hell psychology worked, and he was fucked up enough at is was. 

He let out a sigh. 

“Maybe we don’t have to have all of the answers right away.” He drew his arm away from her and adjusted his stance. She pressed her lips into a line and looked down at the ground. He didn't take his eyes off of her when he continued. “I- I know how I feel about you. Maybe that is enough.”

She nodded meekly, looking deep in thought before her eyes flicked back up to meet his. “Maybe that's enough.”

She looked up, taking in the flights of stairs they still needed to climb. She shyly held out her hand and smiled when he took it. 

Their apartment door was in sight when Larissa cursed. “I have work in the morning.”

Even though he didn’t need to be, Bucky was up before she was the next morning making coffee so she could drink it in bed. Because that’s what he did for the person he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there you have it, folks. FINALLY!!!!!! I couldn’t pick a better chapter to begin the new year with if I tried!
> 
> Okay, Imma get a bit sappy and honest with you all. I am a closeted writer. Before I posted for the first time in January 2020, no one had ever read anything I had written. I judge myself so harshly, and it hinders me from doing things and taking chances sometimes. Posting a fanfiction online may not be a big thing to some, but I’m damn proud to say that it is something I’ve accomplished this past year. Thank you for your support throughout this process. This year was something else, but I can honestly say that you made my year a bit better :)
> 
> Just a little heads up, me and my fam are currently preparing to move. Although the ‘big’ move is in February, I know I’m going to be pretty busy in the next few weeks. I can already feel my stress levels rising lol. I’m planning on using writing to de-stress but at this point, I have no idea what I’m going to have time/energy for. Know that I’m not abandoning this story! I hope to resume my ‘semi-regular’ upload schedule in march, that is, if I haven’t perished under an avalanche of moving boxes ;)
> 
> Here’s to leaving 2020 behind us! May 2021 bring something better.


	39. Chapter 39

It had been a week. One full week of smiles and little touches. Just little touches like when he passed behind her in the kitchen when they were cooking together and touched her back or the way she gave him a playful shove when he made a teasing comment. Touches that said, I’m here, I enjoy your company. _Larissa couldn’t get enough of it. _

They had agreed to take things slow, both deciding to still sleep in their own sleeping arrangements for the time being as they took the time to figure out what this meant for them. And to see if they could be a 'normal' couple.

The conversation had led her to the request she made the day before. 

“We’re going on a date.”

Bucky looked up from where he was folding their clean laundry. “We are?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes. “I don’t even like you that much.”

“Dude.”

He chuckled and leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands and his arms on his knees. “Where to?”

Even though it was her idea, she hadn’t gotten as far yet to decide on an activity. “I like arcades, but I don’t know what you would think about them. There tend to be a lot of lights and sounds and people.” She began slowly walking towards the balcony door, tapping her chin as she continued, “I have absolutely no clue what movies are out now.” She paused as she turned back towards the room. “What about an art museum?”

“Only if you want me to be arrested on the spot.”

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” she said with a scowl. “Too much security.”

As she slowly paced back towards the front door, her eyes fell on their winter coats that hung side by side on pegs in the wall. She stopped pacing and turned back towards him. “Do you know how to ice skate?”

She could still chuckle at the memory of the look on Bucky’s face. He looked at her like she had just asked him if he knew how to tie his shoes. It made her happy. Like some glimmer of his past had managed to shine through in his playful indignation.

“What are you all smiley about?”

Larissa looked up from where she was chopping ingredients for a winter salad, feeling a bit caught in her thoughts.

Joana cocked her brows smugly from behind the tablet where she was ordering produce for the upcoming week. “Yeah, I see you.”

Larissa’s cheeks flushed as she quickly continued to chop, hoping to hide her bashfulness. “Well, B- James and I are going out on a date later.”

Joana’s eyes lit up as she clasped the device against her chest and spun in a circle. “Finally! I fucking knew this was going to be a thing.”

Larissa hid her face with the backs of her hands and groaned.

“Jokes aside, I’m happy for you. He seems really nice, even though he’s a bit-” Joana trailed off.

Larissa let out an amused huff and waited as Joana searched for the right word.

“Quiet?” Larissa tried, using the past times her boss and Bucky had interacted as a reference for what word Joana might be looking for.

“I was going to say dark and mysterious, but quiet works too.”

Larissa rolled her eyes.

“No, but seriously, he seems really sweet. I would love a guy that actually listens to me and enjoys walking me home from work.” Joana looked up at the ceiling in a dramatic fashion. “Do you hear that God? I’m going to manifest the shit out of this.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Larissa said with a smile as she went back to chopping.

“I figure it’s best to cover all of the fronts.”

**________________________________**

Once she was done lacing up her ice skates she sat up, taking in the echoey rink as she waited for Bucky to finish tying his. There weren’t very many other people, probably because it was early in the afternoon. A few school kids were messing around on the rink and a lone figure skater, who seemed to be practicing some spins and jumps.

She felt giddy as she and Bucky began wobbling their way over the padded ground towards the rink.

Bucky got there before she did and, without hesitation, stepped out onto the ice, gliding a little bit away before he made an impressively sharp turn and came to a stop. A little cloud of shaved ice dispersed from the blades of his skates.

Her eyes widened. “Where the hell did you learn to skate like that?” 

Although she was still standing on the rubber padding, she already felt like a wobbly penguin. 

_He made things look too damn effortless. Larissa just hoped she still had the muscle memory for this._

“1930’s Brooklyn.” He shrugged. “Probably.”

She sent him a small smile before stepping out onto the ice. She gently pushed off, skating towards him before making a little pirouette around where he was standing, feeling proud that she still knew how. “Here I was thinking I’d be the better skater.”

As Romanian pop songs echoed over the ice, they skated a few laps around the rink, trying not to laugh when the other inevitably miscalculated their foot placement or when she accidentally made too sharp of a turn and almost ran him over.

“Aside from almost running me into the barrier just now, you’re not too bad.”

She tssed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, take a lap.”

Bucky sent her a smug look, shrugged, and began skating away.

She laughed and skated after him, trying to keep up. 

But when Bucky suddenly turned to see how far behind him she was, it was too short notice for her to reduce her speed. She smacked into him and let out an ‘oof’. 

The impact sent Bucky sliding backward on his skates as she struggled to keep her balance. He quickly grabbed her, preventing her from falling. She was laughing and about ready to apologize when she looked up at him and suddenly realized how close their faces were. 

He raised his eyebrows, a coy smile on his lips. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could have just said so.” 

Her jaw dropped and just as she was about to protest to his comment, he leaned in and pecked her on the lips.

When he released her, she was too occupied with the way her stomach was doing flips causing her to almost fall again. She quickly reached out, trying to grab anything that could prevent her from making a face-shaped indent in the ice. 

And the thing she grabbed just happened to be Bucky’s left wrist. 

When she felt the hard surface through his plush winter coat, she immediately let go and spread her arms, trying to regain her balance. The contact had been no longer than a second but it was long enough to see the shiver roll down his back as he flinched away, turning slightly so his arm was further away from her.

She had long caught on to the signals Bucky gave her in the months they had been living together. He always tried to keep it away from her. It was subtle but constant. The few times she’d accidentally brush past his left arm when she passed him with her arms full of groceries had been enough to put him on edge. She couldn’t help but wonder if her touch reminded him of what his bionic appendage was truly made for.

Larissa watched him for a moment, giving him the space to calm himself before speaking. His shoulders were visible high.

“You know I’m not scared of you, right?” 

His body stiffened again at the sound of her voice. 

“I'm not scared of you,” she whispered. 

His gaze flicked up to meet hers before it moved to look out over the rink. “You should be,” he said lowly. “I've done terrible things.”

The stern tone in his voice and the resentment in his eyes broke her heart. 

This had slowly but surely become a reoccurring topic over the past few months as Bucky slowly opened up to her. Although he spoke of his fear, guilt, and anger from time to time, the memories that fueled the feelings were mostly kept private as they returned to him slowly. 

_She couldn’t blame him. _She was just happy he trusted her enough to talk to her_._

“They're the monsters for what did to you and made you do.” 

He huffed under his breath before putting his hand on the back of his neck and stretching backward, looking up towards the domed ceiling. 

“A lot of things scare the living daylights out of me,” she continued, “but you are not one of them.” 

He straightened, rubbing his hands over his face roughly before letting them fall to his sides. Larissa's face softened and she gently reached out for his right hand.

He let himself glide closer to her and bundled her into a hug. It caught her off guard and caused tears to spring into her eyes. With his right arm, he pulled her close to him, still keeping his metal arm away. Larissa stood there for a moment before circling her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his jacket.

They were quiet for a moment, both just moving slightly on their skates.

“Hey,” her voice was muffled by his jacket.

“Hmm.”

“When’s the last time you had pizza?”

**________________________________**

They returned to the apartment with tired leg muscles and stomachs full of pizza. Winter coats were shed. As Bucky walked further into the apartment making his way to the kitchen to feed Cheddar, who was protesting loudly because they had left him alone, Larissa dug through her pockets. _It was there somewhere. _

She began patting down her hips and smiled when she felt it in the pocket of her jeans. It had been easy enough to buy it without him noticing when she went to pay for dinner.

“What's got you all excited?” Bucky said when he sat down on the sofa. 

“You'll see.” 

“Why does that scare me?” 

Larissa hopped onto the sofa and sat cross-legged across from him, keeping the object hidden in her tightly-closed fist.

"Okay,” she said with a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

“Good God-“ 

"Trust me. It's an important experiment.' 

He shook his head and sighed before he sat up a little straighter and slowly closed his eyes. She didn’t move for a moment, making sure he was actually going to listen to her request. His right eye twitched. 

"I can tell that you're peaking!”

He laughed and closed his eyes, now with a small smile on his lips. 

“Okay, now hold out your arm.” 

He raised his right arm, holding his palm out towards her. 

Larissa paused a beat. "I mean the other one.” 

He opened his eyes and looked at her reluctantly. "Larissa-”

"Just trust me. I think you're going to like it.” 

He closed his eyes again, took a deep breath, and held out his other hand.

She moved the little object into her left hand so she could slowly reach out with her right. 

He had taken off the glove he usually wore. It lay abandoned on the counter when he had gone to feed Cheddar. The segments of his fingers moved ever so slightly as he waited for what was to come.

His breath hitched the moment her fingers touched his. 

She smiled and wondered how much he could feel. _She’d have to ask him about it some other time._

She slowly moved her hand to curl down and clasp their palms together. His hand curled into hers, settling into the touch. 

She hovered her left hand over their clasped hands. With a little ‘_pling_’ the little object she had been hiding attached itself to the metal plates.

“It works!” she exclaimed. 

Bucky opened his eyes and looked down at the little pizza shaped magnet she had attached to the back of his hand. 

When he looked back up at her, with gleaming, slightly-bloodshot eyes, he was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Soooo I was almost done editing the chapter I was planning on uploading when I realized that it just didn’t fit. So I went and wrote this pretty much from ‘scratch’. (Except for the last little magnet part. I had that bit sitting around in the ‘junk drawer’ on my laptop for far too long.)
> 
> I read some fake Bucky tweets like 3 years ago and it inspired the magnet scene……  
Okay, so I just googled it and FOUND IT! It has no punctuation and it goes as follows:
> 
> |Bucky Barnes| @official_bucky May 1  
tony stark CEO of stark industries a billionaire genius sticking fridge magnets to my arm and calling it science.
> 
> I don’t know who came up with this, but whoever did is a legend.
> 
> Now that we got all of the fun stuff out of the way…. 2021 doesn’t seem to be off to the best start. My heart goes out to all of you in lockdowns (I’m right there with ya! *cries in covid*).
> 
> I’ve also been thinking about the USA a lot lately. Seeing the acts of terrorism that unfolded on January 6th made me very sad. Although I no longer live in the US, I am from there. When things like this happen they hurt my heart. 
> 
> I hope you all are well and safe. Know that you can turn off the news and stop scrolling for a while. Although some of the problems at hand seem to be insurmountable mountains, I want to be hopeful about the future. 
> 
> Know that your own actions can play a role in making change. Every conversation you have, every time you stop to listen and gently educate someone, can have an impact. 
> 
> Be kind to others and be kind to yourself.
> 
> Thank you for listening to my ted talk lol. Have a nice day!


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back, y'all!
> 
> You know, I think that “I’ll use writing to de-stress during my move.” is one of the most enneagram type one things I’ve ever said. Extreme physical work + moving stress + having a chronic illness = me basically going into survival mode for the last few weeks. I kind of forgot I needed to actually be able to use my brain to write. 
> 
> Anyhow, I’m back and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Larissa dusted off her hands and took her hair down before refastening it in a little bun on the back of her head, sweeping a few stubborn curls behind her ear.

This morning, Joana had decided that a late spring-cleaning had been in order. Together had wiped down the entire walk-in refrigerator, mopped the floors in the back room and kitchen, and had just begun sweeping out the entirety of the garage that functioned as an extra storage area for the shop as well as for Joana’s living space above. An assortment of crates, rusted tools, and boxes of Christmas decorations had been reorganized and returned to their places on the shelves behind the old campervan. 

Larissa didn’t mind. She kind of liked the thrill of going through the knick-knacks that lived in Joana’s storage.

Joana had been helping until the sound of the little bell could be heard from the shop. Larissa was happy to take a little break. After taking a few big gulps of water from her bottle, she grabbed the dustpan to gather the pile she had just swept together.

She smiled when the full laugh of her friend could be heard from the front room.

_“- for breakfast tomorrow. Gotta catch an early flight in the morning.”_

Larissa perked up, turning her head towards the hall._ English?_

She walked to the door, abandoning the little dust pile on the garage floor, hoping to get a glimpse of who was having such an animated conversation in English with her boss. 

In the dark of the hall, she slowed when the customer came into view. He was standing with his back towards her. Her eyebrows furrowed and her hands gripped the wooden handle of the dustpan. _It couldn’t be…_

Something Joana said made him laugh.

Cold dread washed over her. She had heard that laugh too often to not be able to recognize it anywhere. 

The sound of the metal dustpan clattering to the ground made her jump… but it also drew attention to where she lurking in the hallway.

His face fell when he saw her. Slowly his brows creased and rose as he took the smallest of steps back.

His hair was longer than she'd ever seen before and a 5 o’clock shadow peppered the lower half of his face. But undoubtedly, it was Alex Rumlow standing in the middle of her place of employment.

All she wanted to do was run out the back door. All she could do was stare at the person she used to call a friend.

Joana was the one to break the silence. “Wait, do you… know each other?”

“I-,“ Alex stammered, “You are the last person I’d expected to see in Bucharest-”

“What are you doing here?” Larissa bit back. The fear that had made her go cold just moments ago was slowly morphing into a bubbling rage. 

“I’m in Bucharest for work…”

Her heart dropped. _If he was here on business that meant..._ Her eyes immediately darted to her jacket that was hanging on a peg across the room. Her chest became constricted. 

“Woah.” His hands shot up into the air. “I’m not here to hurt you. I wouldn’t hurt you-.”

Her eyes stopped franticly scanning the room to fixate on him. 

A beat of silent disbelief passed before she let out an agitated huff. “You have some nerve saying that after how you treated me.” She shook her head as the fragments of that day began to dance before her eyes. “How you let _him_ treat me.”

As soon as humanly possible, she needed to get out of there. 

_Bucky. _The pit in her stomach deepened. _She had to get to Bucky._

“I’m sorry.” Alex blurted out, taking a step closer to her. “I don’t work with him anymore-”

Something inside her snapped as her outrage began to spill out of her. “You let your brother rape me. You stood and watched as he killed my mom-” 

She fell to silence when her eyes darted past him to see Joana go completely pale. 

She looked back to Alex, who hadn’t looked away since she had entered the room. Tears blurred her vision and she set her jaw. “I can’t take your apology seriously. Get the fuck away from me.” 

He blankly stared a moment longer before he nodded and looked over his shoulder at Joana. He turned, opening the front door. The pathetic little bell rattled, as he stood there as if wanting to say something else but deciding against it. 

He walked away, leaving the bananas he’d purchased next to the register.

Joana was beside Larissa in an instant, flooding her with an incoherent ramble of Romanian words Larissa didn’t need to understand to know their meanings weren’t polite. “I’m calling the police,” Joana said finally lapsing back into English. 

Larissa grabbed her hand, stopping her from reaching for the phone. 

Joana's brows furrowed.

“You can’t call the cops.”

“But if that guy did those things, you should call the police. You would be protected-”

“Joana…You pay me in cash. I appeared here out of nowhere.” Larissa paused for a moment, waiting to see if her friend would understand. 

Joana’s brows creased in confusion, so Larissa continued. “I’m a fugitive. James and I both are. I played a part in getting him out but they want him back. Police wouldn’t be able to stop them if they wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that this was happening to you? I could have-“ She threw her hands up into the air. “Who even is ‘they’?” Her eyes suddenly went wide. “-and got him out of what? Prison?”

“No,” Larissa shook her head, “but it’s complicated. Really fucking complicated.”

“They are a ruthless organization and they won’t give up when they know they could have him.” Larissa slipped behind the register and grabbed her jacket off of the peg. “Alex- the guy who was just here, says his brother is not here but…James and I can’t stick around to find out if that’s true.”

“Hold up, I’m not letting you walk home by yourself with people out there looking for you.”

“We need to leave Bucharest as fast as possible. Bu-James-“

“Oh come on. I know his name isn’t James.” Joana turned and walked back past the kitchen to the garage. ”I just figured he had an embarrassing name or something. But it’s obviously for security reasons.”

A vast tiredness overcame Larissa, deeper than she could understand. Although the adrenaline that was pumping through her veins was urging her to run all the way home, the deep tiredness made her want to curl up on the floor cease to exist. 

She didn’t want to do this again. Especially not now that she had built a little life here.

Joana, who had now realized Larissa wasn’t following her, grabbed her hand and began pulling her along. 

“Are you upset that I didn’t tell you?” Larissa asked when Joana stopped, flung open a cabinet, and began rifling through it. 

“I’m pissed _for_ you.” Her head popped up around the cabinet door. “And I wish you felt like you could trust me with this earlier but I understand why you didn’t.”

Upon finding what she had been looking for, Joana let out a sound of satisfaction. She handed Larissa a little wooden box that was filled with keys and motioned toward the old campervan. “One of these keys is the spare. I’m going to get your man so you two can get the hell out of here.”

**________________________________**

It didn’t take Larissa long to find a key with a logo that matched the side of the van. Still, it felt like she had wasted precious seconds. She slipped into the passenger seat, not trusting her anxious self enough to drive, and kept her eyes on the garage door, waiting for it to open and hoping it would be her boyfriend rather than a SWAT team on a mission. Or even worse… _What if Joana came back alone?_

With every passing second, her dread grew. 

_What if Alex was a diversion to make sure she was out of the way?_

The sound of the garage door opening and Bucky bounding towards her stopped her catastrophic thoughts short. 

He flung open the door and wrapped her in his embrace. “Are you okay?”

Larissa pulled back and let out a sigh as she tiredly motioned around her. “HYDRA sucks. What else is new?”

He pressed his lips together in a line and raised his eyebrows at her before he took her hand helped her out of the campervan. 

She couldn't begin to process her mental state until they were putting miles between themselves and Bucharest.

With a creaking screech, Joana opened the big garage door, wincing at the sharp noise. 

“You said a getaway car. Not a driving neon sign,” Bucky said as he motioned toward the bulky, vaguely yellow-colored van.

“Eye-catching or not, it’s a house on wheels.” Joana gave Bucky a pointed look before winking at Larissa. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re going to need to get gas on your way out of town but it should work just fine," Joana continued. "It’s a bit dinky but my parents like using it in the summer.”

“What about Cheddar?” Larissa asked, giving Bucky’s hand a little squeeze.

“Brought him to Mr. Georghe on my way down.” His lips curled into the smallest of smiles. “He’ll be alright.”

As Bucky climbed into the front seat and began maneuvering the vehicle out of the garage, Joana pulled Larissa into a hug.

“Do you have a number I can contact you on? If that guy decides to come back I can let you know.”

The look on Larissa’s face must have said enough.

“How are you a fugitive and without a burner phone?!” The feigned shock fell from Joana’s face. Her lips pressed into a tight-lipped smile. “You are coming back, right?” 

Larissa managed to nod, even though she didn’t dare make any promises. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything.”

As they drove away, Larissa turned in her seat to watch Joana shrink in the distance and wondered if she would ever see Joana again. 

Or Cheddar.

Or their little home.

Finally, Larissa let panicked tears consume her.

**________________________________**

It was only when they were outside of the city that she felt her shakiness begin to subside. Sitting beside Bucky in the front seat, watching the world go by as he quickly navigated them onto the highway… It was all far too familiar. No matter how many nights she had spent imagining this very situation, the reality of it was even grimmer. 

She could feel his eyes on her without having to look over at him.

Larissa pressed her palms against her cheeks, covering her eyelids with her fingers. A whisper of a curse left her lips. “He said he was here for work but that he doesn’t work with his brother anymore. How the fuck can I believe that?”

“He even had the nerve to tell me that he wasn’t going to hurt me,” she said turning towards Bucky. Her voice softened. “Do you remember finding me…in the safe?” 

Bucky’s brows lowered. He nodded.

Larissa swallowed hard but quickly continued, not wanting to sink into her memories. “Alex was the one to cuff me to the bed.”

Bucky’s hand moved over the dashboard and curled around hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s back, back again. Alex’s back tell your friends (that they should go and hide because if Alex is here that means Brock is here, right? ….. RIGHT?!)
> 
> Larissa is #mood because this month a deep tiredness has made me want to curl up on the floor cease to exist. And Hydra isn’t even after me.
> 
> I will be uploading another +-600 word mini-chapter in a few days because I wanted to leave you guys with a better cliffhanger. Am I evil? Yes :) Do I enjoy it? Also yes :)
> 
> I hope you all are doing well and being kind to yourselves and others.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mini-chapter, b*tchessss!

From the passenger seat, Larissa scanned the gas station for anyone who looked remotely familiar or out of the ordinary, still very unpleased about the fact that Bucky was the one pumping gas, and therefore within view of potential cameras and eyes.

Her attention was pulled back to Bucky when she heard him ask something in Romanian.

“Vă putem împrumuta telefonul pentru a căuta ceva pe internet?”(Can we borrow your phone to search the internet for something?)

The man, who was pumping gas beside them, sent Bucky a shrug.

Before Larissa could question what Bucky had just asked, the man’s phone was handed to her. She shot Bucky a questioning look.

“Look him up. News articles.”

She set her jaw and got to work. Before long, she was absorbing the headlines that popped up under a Google search for ‘Alexander Rumlow’. 

_‘Ex-Hydra agent comes clean - Younger brother of Crossbones is switching sides. Here’s all we know about Alexander Rumlow.’ _

_‘.. the next in a growing list of SHIELD/Hydra employees who claim they didn’t know what they got themselves into.’_

_‘… sharing information that could help officials in the Crossbones case. Although information on Alexander Rumlow is sparse, he is thought to be a credible source. His information has led to several arrests during the ongoing search for HYDRA agents. Officials hope that new information will aid in the arrest of wanted terrorist Brock Rumlow.’_

She lowered the phone, only then becoming aware that she was maniacally holding the screen a few inches from her face, and quickly deleted the search history. She handed the phone back to the man waiting beside her window and even managed to remember to mumble a word of thanks.

Bucky, who had just climbed back into the driver seat, raised his eyebrows in silent question when she looked back at him.

“He’s out.” She nodded slowly, trying to sort her woolly thoughts into coherent sentences. “As far as the Internet is concerned, the only connection that he has to Hydra is the fact that he’s been bringing them in.”

Bucky nodded, but the tension in his face remained. 

“In that case… maybe we don’t have to make big deal out of this,” Larissa continued, feeling apprehensive about being hopeful. “What is he doing here?” 

_This couldn’t have been pure coincidence._

“We should get out of here for now. We can come back in a week or so and scope it out.”

“Where are we even going?” Larissa asked, suddenly realizing she hadn’t even thought to question their destination or direction.

“East. Your boss recommended going towards the Black Sea. Said it would be more like a romantic getaway than a ‘someone-is-after-us’ getaway.”

A small smile crept over Larissa’s lips. “So we’re going on vacation then?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he couldn’t seem to hide his smile. “I guess we are.” 

________________________________

It was getting late, deciding to park off the side of a back road and continue their search for a campsite in the morning. And Larissa was glad for it. She felt like she was a walking sack of bruised potatoes. In a more conscious state, she would have wanted to make a note to google the connection between unexpected borderline-traumatic experiences and body pain.

She pulled her pajama shirt from the backpack of things Bucky had managed to grab. After pulling the shirt over her head she was pulled out of her tired thoughts when her eyes connected with Bucky’s through the rearview mirror. 

He quickly looked away and continued to roll out their sleeping bags on the mattress in the back window. The tiny table light cast a warm glow on him.

She smiled and hopped onto the mattress, pulling her knees up to her chest and raising her eyebrows at him. “Were you watching me?” 

“What?” he objected, sarcasm thick in his voice. “I would never.”

She rolled her eyes and lay down on her side, getting comfy and watching him as he moved back to the front of the van. The gravity of the situation dawned on her anew as he collected ammunition from the backpack and unclasped the holster he usually wore hidden under his jacket, ditching the straps in the front seat. After checking the locks on the doors, he returned to the bed, bringing his weapons and ammo back with him and stashing them under them within reach.

“You’re not getting changed?” she asked once Bucky slipped under the sleeping bag, wearing a dark long-sleeve t-shirt and jeans.

He raised his eyebrows, a smug look coming over his face as he rolled onto his side. “Hydra’s not taking me in my jammies.”

She sent him a pointed look. “Hydra is not taking you, period.”

She reached out, tracing her finger gently from his cheekbone, down over his jaw where a stubble of a beard was starting to form. His lips parted ever so slightly when her thumb brushed over them. 

“Do you miss him?” Bucky whispered, leaning into the palm of her hand.

A sigh escaped her. For as long as she had known him, Alex had been connected to happy memories. Like the time he managed to convince her to sneak out of the compound after midnight when they were 14, promising he would take the blame if they got caught. 

_But now, seeing him standing before her as a stranger, all she could remember was the smell of grass, a gunshot ringing in her ears, the turning of gears, and the jiggling of handcuffs._

She pressed her eyes close and cleared her throat. Bucky was watching her patiently when she opened her eyes again.

“I miss the person I thought he was.” 

She scotched closer to him, tucking her head under his chin and leaning against his chest. Bucky slipped his arm around her and began tracing patterns over her shoulder blades.

“Do you miss _him_?” she asked softly.

Bucky’s hand stilled. He nodded.

Silence wrapped around them like a warm blanket. Despite what might be out looking for them, an ease came over her. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought she heard the whisper of Bucky’s voice in her hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do a lil celebratory dance because you’ve survived a full year of pandemic. Here’s to many more …wait…oh god. Did I just jinx it?
> 
> You know you are a writer when you Google to see what words were in use for ‘pajamas’ in the 1930s and then fall down an internet rabbit hole of ‘the history of sleepwear’.
> 
> I couldn’t find a clear answer so I settled on ‘jammies’ which according to Merriam-Websters dictionary was first known to be used in 1912. I think I’m internally cringing for making Bucky say that. Hahah sorry!)
> 
> I’m excited for the falcon and the winter soldier to start in a few days! I probably won’t start watching until the end of march (my fam and I are going to have a movie night and watch the first few episodes).
> 
> When I saw the first teaser trailer I wasn’t super enthused but I’m a lot more excited about it after seeing the trailer and some of the clips. I can’t wait for the Bucky/Sam banter.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Have a lovely day!


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WEEE-OOOOOH-WEEE-OOH Official notice: I’m up to date with the falcon and the winter soldier. Feel free to leave me your favorite moments, hot takes, and lists of all the times you cried in the comments below! Now on to the chapter ->

Initially, the serenity of the coastal town made Bucky uncomfortable. But after spending over an hour crouched down in the bushes without seeing a single car pass the entrance of the campground they were staying at, he officially decided that it was too calm to even be suspicious. 

Even when he had gone into town earlier to pick up the groceries Larissa had requested, he had only seen a small number of locals. All of which seemed to live in the center. The rest of town consisted of empty apartments, driveways overgrown with grass, and a small supermarket that advertised being open every day from June through September.

Instead of wasting his time staring at an empty road, Bucky went back to the campervan. Watching his girl struggle to light a campfire was worth it.

“Did you get it going?” Bucky asked, quirking his eyebrow in amusement as she watched her begin to pile the ingredients for their dinner into her arms, while also trying to avoid dropping the skewer full of sausages. 

“Yep,” Larissa said, popping the p, before handing him a few of the supplies to lighten her load. “Everything okay out there?”

He nodded and followed her out to the fire pit, armed with a baguette, a can of soup, and two spoons.

Larissa let the skewer rest up against a log close to the fire. She sat down, took the can of soup from Bucky, and started to peel the paper label off the side. A look of mischief came over her face. "Experiment time!" 

"Oh god. Not again." He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the feeling of contentment that warmed him from the inside. He sat down beside her.

"If I chuck this into the coals,” Larissa held up the can of tomato soup she had just peeled the paper label off of, "can you get it out with your hand?" 

Bucky cocked his brow, reached forward, and ever so gently extended his hand, letting the flames lick at his metal fingers. When dull feeling heat began to grow, he drew them back, flexing his fingers slowly as the warmth subsided.

"How much can you feel?"

“Enough to know when I’m holding your hand,” he said as he found her hand and slid his metal fingers between hers. “Pressure is easier than temperature. Texture is pretty much non-existent unless it’s particularly coarse or bumpy.”

“It’s amazing, really.” She snuck her hand up his wrist hooked her elbow into his, snuggling into his side.

Bucky had yet to figure out why she thought snuggling with a hunk of metal was even remotely comfortable. _Or how she even dared be close to it for that matter. _

“Technological miracle of its time,” he mumbled under his breath. 

_And a gift to mankind._

He took a deep breath and pulled her closer, trying to root himself in her warmth and the crackle of the logs on the fire instead of questioning who had spoken those words to him. He watched her slowly turn the skewer over the flames.

A small smile cracked over his lips at the familiarity of the sight. "I think I remember doing this before."

"Yeah?"

Bucky nodded. "With my family."

It was only recently that he had begun to remember them. 

Vague outlines of their faces. Voices that seemed to come from some far-off place. And snapshots, small overly specific snapshots, isolated from any coherent memory. 

His mother's oven mitts, red checkered with a slightly charred mark on one of the thumbs. The sound of a crowd cheering at a baseball match over the radio. Mismatched blankets draped over chairs and fastened together with clothespins forming a tent over a pile of pillows. 

This familiarity was different. It was more than a snapshot. He could feel this memory. 

"It was summer." His warm bare skin embraced the evening breeze. Grass tickled at his bare feet. Laughter, the crackle of a fire, and a burst of fireworks in the sky. "I think my Ma and Pa were there. And my sister," he said. "We were watching fireworks. Must have been the Forth of July."

_That date_. His smile faded slowly. _He knew that date was more than a national holiday._

Larissa turned the sausages one final time before removing them from the fire. 

"I think Steve was there too," he continued softly. He reached forward, retrieving the hot can of soup from the coals and leaving it in the cool sand beside his booted feet. 

He could feel her eyes on him, wanting to ask further but contemplating whether or not she should.

“Do you think about him a lot?”

He shrugged as leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on the palms of his hands, watching her as she broke the baguette into pieces and opened them, placing a sausage inside. 

“Not quite a hotdog,” she said with a smile, “but I think it’s as close as we're going to get out here.” Her smile faded as she fell into silence.

“I know you don’t want to reach out but you really mean a lot to him,” Larissa said after a moment. “You should have seen his face when I handed him that file, Bucky. He was heartbroken.”

Bucky sighed. It wasn’t only the decades that had grown between Steve and him. It was far more than that. 

It was every kill that he remembered. 

Every victim that pleaded for their lives. 

Every ‘Hail HYDRA’ that had fallen from his lips. 

With each recurring memory, the rift between him and Steve expanded, leaving Bucky certain that any attempt to build a bridge would be doomed to fail. 

_He had betrayed Steve. _And thinking about that made Bucky's head hurt.

“I’m not the person he lost all of those years ago.” _He could never be that person again._

Larissa nodded and handed him a sausage-filled baguette. “I doubt he’s the same person who lost you back then either.” 

He sent her a tight-lipped smile as he took the sandwich from her and took a bite.

"Dang," he said, moving his hand in front of his mouth as he chewed. "You need to try this.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “You’re just trying to get me to shut up, aren't you?”

________________________________

Sometime later, after finishing dinner, she snuggled up to him. Both of them were content watching the flames as they slowly began to die down into glowing coals.

She shifted a little, glancing towards the beach. From where they were sitting, he could hear the waves lapping against the sand. Even in the dim glow of the last flames, the flush of her face was more than evident.

“What’s got you all blushy?” Bucky said with a chuckle.

Her eyes widened and flashed towards him. “Nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing-“

“You want to go swimming?”

Bucky looked back towards the beach. He wondered if she realized how cold the water was this early in the year. His brows furrowed when a sudden practical thought popped into his mind. “We don’t have swimsuits-“ 

He paused when Larissa shrugged sheepishly.

He quirked his brow, his insides fluttering at the thought of going skinny-dipping with his girl. He leaned in closer to her. Timid anticipation came over Larissa’s face as she waited for him to speak. “I think you just want to see me in my birthday suit.”

Her look of shock was adorable. 

“That not it- I mean… I only have one bra and we barely have extra clothes. I don’t want them to get completely soaked. We could go in our underwear…” She stopped rambling, gave him a playful shove, and hid her face in her hands. “Stop looking at me like that!” 

He gently grabbed her wrist, pulling it away from her face as he stood up. “Come on.” He helped her up and began leading her into the trees. “Before you change your mind.”

“Wait, really?” 

He hummed, weaving his flesh fingers between hers as they walked. 

The night was quiet; Only the rustle of the wind in the branches and the soft crunch of pine needles breaking under their shoes could be heard. 

His pace slowed when the trees ended, leaving them standing looking out over the dark expanse of water, only lit by a narrow crescent moon. 

He took a deep breath, taking in the stillness of the night. 

When he looked to the right, she was doing the same.

He squeezed her hand to get her attention. “Are you sure about this? It’s going to be cold.” 

It was early in the year, too early for the water to have warmed up much from the winter temperatures.

He knew he could handle the cold. _But he wasn’t so sure about her…_

She shrugged and began the little climb down the rocky dune to the beach.

He rolled his eyes followed a few steps behind her, watching her with amusement as she ditched her shoes and jogged to the edge of the water.

The moment water touched her feet, she recoiled and looked at him in horror. “Oh my fucking god.”

“I told you.” He said coolly as he untied his boots, abandoning them on the sand before popping the button of his jeans. “It’s barely April for god's sake. What did you expect?” 

“You smug bastar-“ 

“This was _your_ idea,” he pointed out as he kicked off his pants, trying not to smile. She had a mouth to her. _And he liked her better for it._ “You better not leave me hanging now.” 

He was almost to the water when he stripped off his shirt and turned around, ready to make a joke about her being a slowpoke. He creased his brows when he realized she hadn’t started undressing or moved at all for that matter. “You okay?”

Her gaze flicked over his abs, down to his boxers before back up to his face. Larissa pressed her lips together and smiled nervously. “I’m an adult. I shouldn’t be so shy.”

He melted.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” He closed the space between them and held out his shirt. “But you can wear this if it makes you feel more comfortable.” 

She smiled and took off her hoodie before accepting his shirt and pulling it over her head. She dropped her bra into the sand before she slipped her arms into the sleeves. 

“Thank you.” She stood up on her toes to peck a kiss against his lips. 

When she went to move away, he reached out and slid his hands down her arms, leaning into the space between her neck and her right shoulder. He kissed her there and dropped his voice down to a whisper. “The last one in is a loser.” 

He heard her curse as he sprinted off towards the water. 

“That’s not fair!” 

Fluffy sand gave way into the surf. The frigid water was up past his knees when he dove forward. The water shocked his system and left him gasping when he resurfaced. He shook his hair out of his face and looked back to the beach with a smile. 

His shirt came down to the tops of her thighs but billowed up above her underwear as she ran. She slowed at the water's edge and waded into the water like a tiny timid horse. 

He shook his head, stood up, and began trudging back towards her. 

“Oh my god, I’m coming.” Larissa quickly moved forward and pointed at him as a warning. “Don’t you fucking dare splash me.” 

Bucky smiled and lowered himself back into the water, satisfied with his work as he slowly swam further. “You're just a sour loser" 

"I'm a cold sour loser," she mumbled when she finally caught up to him. Her hand found his bicep in the dark water and she pulled herself to him, clinging to his chest and wrapping her legs around his waist. "You can stand here?"

He hummed and trailed his right hand over her lower back before moving it up under the hem of his shirt to her should blades.

She gasped.

The sound would have probably shot right down to his groin if he wasn’t standing in freezing cold water. He tried not to think of the sounds she would make if he were to touch more than just her spine.

He leaned in and kissed her. And despite her cold lips, she matched his enthusiasm and pulled him even closer, wrapping her arms around his neck.

The moment their lips parted, she pressed her cheek to his neck.

He chuckled at her efforts to use his body heat. “Are you cold?”

Her answer was muffled and small. “No.”

Her shivering frame and goose bump-covered skin betrayed her.

Bucky began trudging towards shore and didn’t let her go until they were back on dry land.

________________________________

"Holy fucking hypothermia. Why did you let me do that?" she asked from behind the divider that separated their shower cabins, trying to talk over the echoing spray of water. 

He laughed but he too was regretting the decision. Well… maybe not regretting it, necessarily. It was just that his skin had turned pink under the warm spray of the shower and now felt like it was burning. 

“You make your own choices,” he said as he pushed his hair out of his face. “I’m just here to make sure you live up to your word.”

He heard her sputtering bark of laughter from behind the divider. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

"Can I say something?" he asked her later once they had both dried off. Steam still hung in the air and had fogged up the mirrors. He wiped his hand over the glass and brushed back his hair before he parted it down the middle with her wide-toothed comb. He locked eyes with her briefly through the mirror to where she was brushing her teeth. 

“Of course,” she mumbled through the foam before she spit in the other sink and cupped her hands under the tap to rinse.

“I uh-“ he paused and tried to gather his thoughts. Trying to avoid sounding like _a mumbling idiot_. “I don’t want you to feel ashamed about feeling uncomfortable, ” he started. “I don't care about how fast or slow we take all of this. I just want you to be happy.”

Larissa’s lips parted and her hands slowly fell to her sides. Her eyes became glassy.

Bucky’s brows creased. _He hadn’t meant to make her cry. _“I-“

Before he could say another word, Larissa was in his arms. The comb fell from his hand and clattered onto the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo I was really struggling with this chapter. I had a pretty good draft framework of the dialogue and the actions but re-writing/editing just wasn’t quite flowing. It had me super confused…. until I realized...
> 
> This chapter is Bucky’s POV.
> 
> And he’s (relatively) happy.
> 
> I’m not used to writing happy Bucky pov.
> 
> Yes, I am crying.
> 
> Okay and now for my list of fav tfatws moments:  
• Bucky’s ‘forced’ smiles from episode 1. I was dying.  
• HE SAID HAIL HYDRA WHAT THE FFFF  
• Now I want to go on a date and play drunk battleship with someone.  
• Couples therapy XD  
• Who gave Joaquín Torres the permission to be so freaking cute?  
• John Walker getting thrown off of the truck and smashed against a windshield like the bug he is.  
• Does anyone else just really love the way the winter soldier theme is used in the soundtrack throughout the MCU? Fucking iconic.
> 
> Now for the most heartbreaking moments:  
• Both of their faces while watching the announcement of the new captain america.  
• Yori seeing the mochi and talking about his son and then when he opens his door and you can see the picture of his son. I'm not okay.  
• “And he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me.” My heart is broken forever, goodbye.
> 
> On another note: I’m really curious to see how they continue handling racial justice in this series. It’s important to see and talk about these stories and experiences. They hold true for what the real world is like. 
> 
> We live in a world where armed white mass murderers are ‘arrested peacefully’ while people of color aren’t even safe from police in their own homes. If you’re not pissed off, you’re not paying attention/are privileged and therefore paying attention is ‘optional’.
> 
> Be open to hearing the experiences of others. Really listen to them. These conversations are important. Learn about your own internal biases. Call out people’s bullshit. It’s the least we can do.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by. Have a nice day!


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *hears the sound of a train whistling in the distance*  
Me: *stops typing this note and furrows eyebrows.*  
Me: “Wait- It can’t be… Is that the smut train?! About time! It only took +90k words to get here!”
> 
> TW: past sexual assault experiences (and general smut I guess???)

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said last night.” Larissa had just gotten done with drying the dishes. It had been a lazy day, leaving more than enough space for her to ruminate on Bucky’s words from the evening before.

She placed the plates she had just washed back on the shelf and dried her hands on the dishtowel before pulled the sleeves of her hoodie back down from her elbows to her wrists.

She hopped onto the bench seat beside Bucky, who perked up from his notebook and scooted over to make room for her.

He hummed and picked up one of her curls between his fingers, pulling it to its full length before letting it spring back into place.

Larissa let her head rest against the window, contemplating how to continue as she watched the water droplets glittering in the darkness as they made their way down the pane.

They had been confined to the van since it had started raining earlier that afternoon. And although she couldn’t see much in the darkness outside, she knew the grass would have turned into a mud pool by now. She was glad they had a little toilet in the van because she sure as hell wasn’t going out there again tonight.

Larissa sighed.

“What Brock did to me,” she paused, pulling her knees up to her chest as she searched for the right words. Her brows furrowed in frustration when she couldn’t find them. She turned towards Bucky. “He took my free will from me.” She let out an angry huff and shook her head. “God, I feel like such a whiner telling you this.”

Bucky shushed her softly, assuring her it was okay and encouraging her to continue with a hand on her arm.

_But it wasn’t okay._

She shook her head again, pressing her lips together. Thinking of what Hydra had done to him, what Brock had done to her, made her feel like puking. The anger had been smoldering in her over the past year and seemed to only grow with every nightmare she experienced and every memory he told her about.

“He made me vulnerable and just fucking ruined me,” she bit out, refusing to make eye contact with him, opting instead to trace her fingernail over a dent in the table as she tried to calm herself. Her voice was softer when she continued. “I think I’ve just been so scared of being made vulnerable like that, that it made me burry my interest in sex.” A dull warmth rose to her cheeks. “But the thing is, I am.”

Larissa let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and flicked her eyes up to his, grudgingly preparing herself to face his reaction.

She didn’t expect him to be looking at her like she was a deity incarnate. It smashed over her like a wave, causing the butterflies in her stomach to take flight. As he peppered a kiss on the top of her head and the metal of his fingers tingled up over her hand, she couldn’t stop the small smile that graced her lips.

“You tell me when you’re ready and I’ll be there.”

Larissa’s smile faded. _What if she felt she was ready now?_

The nerves in the pit of her stomach had begun to flutter into her limbs. She did her best to ignore them as she climbed onto his lap, letting her knees rest on the seat on either side of his thighs.

She ignored Bucky’s amused smile and did the one thing that she knew how. She dipped her head in and kissed his beautiful soft lips. When she pulled away slightly, leaving her forehead resting on his, their noses bumped together.

“What if I were to say that I’m ready now?” She didn’t open her eyes.

His hands cupped her jaw, thumbs softly moving over her cheek. “Then I’d say we better take this somewhere comfortable.”

Before she could respond, his hand left her face and grabbed her butt, picking her up and walking them over to the bed. Larissa yelped at his sudden movement, clinging to his neck. He sat down and scooted onto the bed before she could protest.

Once he was seated, Larissa unfurled her hands from the death grip she had formed behind his neck, allowing herself to settle back on his thighs. She cocked her head at him, unamused.

Bucky smiled innocently. His eyes, which usually were a bright steely blue, shone a warm green in the light from the little table lamp. 

His face dipped down and he kissed along her jawline up to just under her ear, causing a shiver of pleasure to run up her spine and leave her skin covered in goosebumps. As he worked his way down the column of her neck, she ran her fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. His soft moan vibrated her skin as she gently ran her nails over his scalp.

He came back up, kissing her on the lips for good measure. “I can tell you’re enjoying this,” he said with a chuckle. “What would you like me to do?’

Larissa must have looked rather startled because Bucky quickly continued. “I need you to tell me, darling.”

Larissa took a deep breath and cautiously grabbed his flesh hand, trailing it to her stomach. “I want you to touch me, Bucky,” she said softly as she slipped his hand under the hem of her hoodie and urged it upwards along her side.

Bucky watched her with hooded eyes but when Larissa took her hand off of his, he took over. His large warm hand slowly moved up along her ribs until he cupped her breast.

She laughed under her breath when his eyes widened, realizing she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Her amusement was cut short when he took one of her nipples between two fingers. Larissa let out a shaky breath. She had always thought that her breasts weren’t that sensitive, but now, as Bucky caressed them, her body fluttered.

His hand left her body to lift the hem of her hoodie. Although she felt like she was shaking, Larissa sat up straighter and took over from him, pulled her shirt up over her head, and dropping it off of the side of the bed, leaving herself bare to him.

His eyes stayed focused on her, and he leaned in to kiss her again. When they parted, slightly out of breath, Bucky leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head.

Before Larissa got a chance to admire his pecks, his hands trailed up her arms and gently guided her body back to the soft mattress. He followed her down, hovered over her, supporting himself on all fours.

She smiled at his efforts not to put weight on her and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him down on top of her. _She much rather have him close._

Larissa thought she felt him shiver as she reached out and grazed the stubble of his bearded cheek. “You won’t crush me.”

With his bare chest pressed up against hers and his legs resting between her own, she could feel his hardness against her pelvis.

This was closer than they had ever been and it was starting to make Larissa worried about what state he would find her underwear in. _If he even went that far…_

“I sure as hell hope not,” he mumbled against her skin as he kissed his way down her neck and chest and took one of her nipples into his mouth.

Her breath hitched when he looked up at her, mouth still attached to her body, but she full-on gasped when he gripped her other breast with his metal hand. The feeling of his warm mouth and his cool fingers working so close together caused her to raise her hand to muffle her moans.

She felt him smile against her chest as he pecked her collarbone and moved his face back to the crook of her neck, gently breathing into her hair. His hand left her body, causing the mattress to dip down slightly when he placed it next to her on the bed.

Her hands slid down his neck, following the curve of his shoulder as he rolled off of her to lay down on his side.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Her cheeks flushed involuntarily and she hid her face against his arm, laughing. Bucky poked her side, causing her to squeak and bat him away, before he sat up.

His hands glided down past her ribs. His warm hand rested on her stomach right under her belly button as he undid the button on her pants with his metal hand. It wasn't long before her pants joined the growing pile of garments that littered the floor beside the bed.

Larissa couldn’t help but feel quite exposed when he sat back on his heels and looked at her. As she fought the urge to cover herself, his eyes softened.

Bucky’s hand never left her skin as she got comfortable beside her again. Larissa was grateful for that. She felt as if she would burst into flames of embarrassment without his constant small acts of reassurance.

His fingers skimmed down her stomach and toyed with the top of her underwear. When she turned to look at him, he was already watching her expressions intently.

“May I?”

His words felt like a mere wisp of smoke. Still, they had her whole body tingling with anticipation.

Larissa nodded and looked back down when his fingers slowly dipped below her waistband.

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding when his index finger brushed over her clit and pressed down lightly. As he began to move in slow circles, she melted into his touch. Inexperienced as she was, her body reacted to him. She gasped when his finger left her clit and dipped in between her folds.

“You’re so wet, princess.” His voice tickled her ear, triggering a flush of goosebumps over her skin. Larissa blushed and let her held loll into is chest.

His now dampened fingers returned to her clit as he worked her closer to the edge. Her muscles began to tighten in an all too familiar way.

All was still, apart from the rain pattering on the roof, the sound of her gasping breaths, and the sound of Bucky’s wet fingers working her clit.

Her chest expanded as her lungs took in oxygen. She held her breath and reached out, resting her hand over his arm, anchoring herself and feeling his muscles move beneath his skin.

Suddenly, Larissa snapped. Pleasure surged through her as her back arched up off of the mattress. She squeezed her eyes shut. Tingles rushed through her legs and stomach as he worked her through her orgasm.

When she came back to her senses, she realized she was holding his arm in place and rutting against his fingers.

She immediately stilled, eyes going wide as she looked up at him. She could feel her heart beating in her cheeks.

“Don’t you dare feel embarrassed,” he said, beaming down at her, chuckling. “That was super hot.”

“Well then stop laughing at me!”

“Sorry, it’s just that you’re very cute when you’re all flustered.” He rolled onto his back, slowly retracting his hand from her panties as he pulled her into his side.

From this angle, his hard-on was more than apparent. Larissa creased her brows. “Do you want me to-“ she awkwardly started.

He shook his head. “Tonight’s about you.”

“But you’ve-“

“Honest to god,” His flesh fingers glistened in the lamplight when he held them up. “I don’t mind.” He took his fingers into his mouth and let out a content sigh.

Her eyes went as wide as saucers. Sure, she had her imagination had run wild with him before. But Bucky lying shirtless, sprawled out next to her looking like an Adonis whilst sucking her wetness off of his fingers? She wouldn’t have even dared to conjure that up.

“There is one more thing I’d like to try if you’re up for it.”

Larissa watched him as he maneuvered himself to sit between her legs. He gripped both of her thighs. He flitted his eyes up to meet hers and cocked his brow.

Larissa nodded, encouraging him onward.

Bucky leaned down, settling himself on the bed so that his face was directly between her thighs. His hair tickled her skin. She could feel his warm breath fanning onto her through her panties.

The uncomfortable stickiness told her that she must be dripping.

Her head fell back against the pillow as a gasp escaped her when he moved forward, his nose brushing against her clit as he slowly mouthed against her folds.

Any shame she had, went out the window. So much so that she let out a whine when his mouth left her.

Bucky’s fingers hooked into her underwear by her hips. He sat up as he pulled them down her legs. She locked eyes with him as he trailed his hand up from her ankle to her knee, guiding her legs to fall open so he could lower himself between them again.

His metal arms curled under her right leg, hitching it onto his shoulder before he licked a bold strip between her folds.

Larissa quivered.

He spread her open with his fingers, and he continued to lick her center. He moved up slightly, laved his tongue over her clit, and looked up at her before taking her clit between his lips and sucking.

Larissa's head was spinning, fleeing herself get close but at the same time, not wanting this to end. Her right leg curled around his back, keeping him in place.

Her mouth fell open when one of his fingers poked at her entrance.

Larissa’s gaze went foggy, and the space around her went quiet as his fingers dig into her without any regard for her wellbeing. His rough hands clawed at her hips and pushed them down to stop her from trying to get away.

_Not that she could move much at all._ Her one arm was bolted into place by the searing pain from her shoulder. The other was bolted to the bed by a circlet of metal.

His breath fan over her face and his head dipped down next to her ear, causing her to shy away. All the while his pumping fingers never ceased. His other hand pressed down hard over her mouth to stop Larissa from screaming out for help.

“No one is coming for you.” He nipped at her shoulder and released her, reaching down to undo his belt. “It’s just you and me now.”

Brock mumbled her name under his breath. And then again a bit louder. _And again. And again._

The words bled together, morphing between a dream and reality.

It wasn’t Brock’s voice calling her. _It was Bucky’s_.

“Larissa? You're okay. Larissa-”

Her muscles tensed up when she realized she was shaking. Her eyes were clamped shut. She inhaled deeply as if breathing for the first time.

Bucky spoke softly from beside her, guiding her back into the moment, with whispered words.

“You’re safe. Do you hear the rain falling on the roof?”

The steady rhythm of the downpour pattered on the roof of the van. She nodded.

“That’s good. We’re here and we’re safe,” he murmured. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

She opened her eyes to find him watching her patiently.

Larissa rolled into his chest. The tears that had been pricking in her eyes, rolled over her cheeks and onto his skin.

His hand clasped hers. She squeezed it softly as her breathing evened out. Slowly her body relaxed into the bed.

“I’m back,” she murmured after a while.

“I’m glad.”

She stammered as she tried to come up with an explanation. _Why did her brain have to do this? He probably thought she hated it._ “I’m sorry for drifting off like that. It really felt good it was just-“

Buck shushed her and pulled her closer, reaching over her to grab the sleeping bag and pull it over her body. “Don’t apologize. I should have been more aware, you suddenly stopped responding.”

In the pause that followed Larissa’s thoughts drifted back to what they had been doing before. She smiled, glad to be hiding her face against his chest so he couldn’t see the way her cheeks flushed. “I’ve never come with another person before.”

Bucky chuckled into her hair. “Well, then I’m glad that I was your first time.” He sobered. “Do you-” he started. “Do you want to tell me where you went?”

Larissa sighed, hating the fact that their time together had to end like this, but still, she nodded and began recalling the events that occurred in the bank safe in Washington D.C.

________________________________

Larissa fell asleep some time later, her spirit seeming to be lifted as she shared her experience bit by painstaking bit. Bucky had to stop himself from grabbing his weapons and going out to hunt the bastard that very night. 

With all his heart, he wished to never kill again. But just as strongly, he wished he had killed Rumlow, if only to be able to tell her that Brock wouldn’t hurt her ever again.

He absentmindedly tugged at one of her curls. She turned in her sleep, curling towards him. _She looked at peace._

Still, it wasn’t enough to shake the image of the terrified look on her face when she had stopped responding earlier. Ever since that moment, a pit had formed in his stomach. There was just something about that look of terror in her eyes that evoked a gnawing sense of familiarity. He stared up at the ceiling, terrified at the possibility of memories resurfacing.

While listening to her breathing and the pattering of rain on the roof, Bucky fell into a restless dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuuuuhhhh oops, my finger slipped? Y’all better not be 12 years old. I s2g.
> 
> I’ve been debating about whether or not I should change the rating to explicit. I don’t feel like this fic is super graphic and it isn’t going to suddenly become super graphic but I want to be able to add a sprinkle of smut here and sometimes I feel like trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters could be seen as ‘spoilers’. As of right now I’m leaning towards leaving it on Mature and adding a trigger warning in the first chapter that covers the whole fic. If you want to chime in and give me advice, it would be very much appreciated.
> 
> (Honestly, what do the ratings mean anyways? I find the line to be too ‘blurry’ to make any real sense.)
> 
> Fun fact about me: I always spell the word ‘mattress’ wrong. Someone send help.
> 
> I just watched tfatws episode 4 and all I can say is that if Steve is watching from his secret base on the moon he is going to be SO__FREAKING __PISSED.
> 
> If you ever wonder what I think about any scene that Bucky is in (including the ‘wakanda scene’ ahajdkdakk), know that I’m probably off in a corner crying.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!
> 
> (I’ve never written smut before so feel free to send feedback/encouragement in the comments lol)


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hear ye! Hear ye!
> 
> This chapter wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for a comment from _**Lyriakal!**_ Therefore I hereby dedicate this chapter to the most honorable _**Lyriakal**_. May they enjoy it and cherish it forever. So says the queen. (aka me)
> 
> (XD lol sorry if I’m dedicating a chapter to someone I’m going to do it as a ‘royal decree’)

The door to the camper van slammed open with a little more force than Bucky had intended. He looked back over his shoulder, eyes squinting in the early afternoon sun, before hiking his foot up onto the step and beginning to untie the laces of his boots. The mud that had caked onto his footwear while he trudged through the rain earlier that morning had worn off. Only a few splatters were left on the leather around his ankles.

His feet felt cramped from being tied into his shoes so tightly, but it had been dark, and he had been too eager to get out, hoping that a brisk walk in the damp night air would tire his mind enough to go to sleep.

When the sun began peeking over the horizon, his annoyance only grew. As the world around him lightened with the first rays of daylight, he was forced to accept what he already believed to be true.

Larissa appeared in the doorway. His eyes trailed up from her shoes to her zipped-up hoodie and jacket. Behind her, he spied the rolled sleeping bags and stuffed backpack. Her face crinkled with worry. “Where did you go? I thought that they-“

He brushed past her, filling a cup of water under the tap and chugging down in a few gulps. The cool water did little to quench his inner torment.

A trickle of guilt dripped onto his already overflowing consciousness. _He shouldn’t have let her worry over him._ It had to be close to 11 by now. He didn’t want to think about how he would feel if she disappeared without a trace in the middle of the night.

“Did you even sleep last night?”

Her question wasn’t surprising. He didn’t need to catch a glimpse of his reflection to know that he looked like a wreck. His eyes stung with the burning of sleeplessness as gravity pulled at the muscles of his face. A deep heaviness was weighing him into the ground. If it wasn’t for his reeling, guilt-ridden thoughts he probably would have been able to fall asleep where he stood.

He refilled his cup, refusing to look at her. “You know how you told me that sometimes the brain stores stuff in a box so your mind can let it go?” He quickly gulped the water down again.

He watched as the empty cup circled a few times when he put it on the counter before finding its center of gravity.

“Last night opened a really shitty box.” His eyes were drawn to the empty bed as he shrugged his jacket off, pealing the material down his arms and let it drop onto the table. “I went out to walk when I realized I wasn’t going to sleep. Didn’t want to wake you by staying here. By the time the sun came up, I was two towns over on the beach.”

Finally, he turned towards where she stood, unmoving by the door. His face felt taut with determination. She was the only one who could confirm if this memory was real or something his fucked up brain had conjured up.

“I need you to tell me if the thing I remembered is true.”

When she locked eyes with him she nodded, encouraging him onward.

“Last night, when I was holding you… it brought something back.” He shook his head, shying his face away from the confrontation of what he had likely done. The feeling of her body going limp under his iron grasp was too real. “Did I choke you into unconsciousness?”

Her eyes widening was more than enough of an answer for him.

Bucky swore and turned away again, angrily wiping his hands over his face.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. All he could hear was the raging of his breaths and the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. And somewhere behind him, as if in a dream, he could hear the raspy voice of Brock Rumlow. _“That’ll teach her.”_

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“I- I don’t know what to say. I thought you knew,” Larissa stammered. “But I also don’t hold the things you did back then against you. I _can’t_ hold them against you.”

“I drilled you into a fucking wall until you lost consciousness. You _should_ hold that against me!”

“I-“ Larissa's cheeks flushed as she searched for words with a helpless look on her face. “Oh god.” She sat down on the window seat and rested her hands on the table in front of her. “I thought you knew. I thought it was part of why you were hesitant to stay in Bucharest in the first place.”

“I didn’t know.” His hands cupped his face and massaged his temples.

“Bucky.”

He sighed and let his hands fall away from his face so he could see her. The sunlight streaming in from behind her lit her curls up like a halo.

Many people had been victims of him over the years. _But why in god's name did it have to be her?_

“I’m sorry,” Larissa said softly.

His eyebrows lowered and he shook his head, ready to object.

She had _nothing_ to apologize for.He should consider himself lucky she had kept him around in the first place.

“I should have told you everything I know,” Larissa continued quickly. “I was scared of upsetting you. I didn’t want to bring up bad memories for you by talking about what happened in D.C.”

Bucky sighed. “You’re too considerate.” He began pacing the length of the van as he listened to her, scared that if he stopped moving and sat down he would slip deeper down the dark rabbit hole his mind had created.

“They were wiping you every few days. I could see your cell from the security room, and it would break my heart. You were completely blank. When I asked about you, they told me you were a criminal.” Larissa scoffed before continuing. “The first time I saw you outside of a screen was this one time in the hall. Brock paraded you in, trying to make a point to...“

Bucky stopped walking to glance over at her when she hesitated. Her brows were knitted together. She shook her head and quickly continued when she saw that he was looking.

“He wanted to make a point to Alex. Made him press a gun up to your head. They had you kneeling on the floor.” She paused. “You barely moved.

“I started collecting evidence after that, CCTV stills mostly. And there were tons of paper documents. Most of them were full technical jargon that I couldn’t understand but I did find a letter dating back to 1947 with a sketch of your arm and that photo I gave you. I put two and two together after that.

“Sometimes, I think back on how I could have done more. Everything I did, was spur of the moment. And I was stupid, which is exactly why Brock found a book in the safe with you and decided to make you teach me a lesson for ‘_trying to fixing you’_.”

Bucky lowered himself into the seat across from her, finally giving in to the way his muscles screamed for rest.

“It scared the shit out of me, and made me question why I was even bothered helping you in the first place,” Larissa continued. “But looking back on that now…Your eyes… The way you moved… You were nothing like the way (who?) you are sitting here now.”

“But it was me,” He spoke finally with a raspy voice and a tight throat.

He might not have been there, but it was always him. Every person the winter soldier had tortured had looked into _his_ eyes.

Larissa nodded slowly. “It was you.” She reached out across the table to clasp his flesh hand, staring into his eyes with a ferocity so fiery it made him feel like crying. ”I don’t blame you, Bucky. And I never will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a lil short but it was definitely important for them to discuss this. Next chapter is back to Bucharest!
> 
> Duuudeee, I can’t believe Friday is the last the falcon and the winter soldier episode. I’m going to miss getting lil weekly Sam and Bucky updates!
> 
> Episode 5 was the best yet in my opinion! And boy, oh boy did we get spoiled with the freaking Sam Wilson workout montage, the cute af bro’s fixing a boat montage, Bucky smiling (!?!?!?!?!) and last but not least the frisbee therapy session.
> 
> I cannot tell you how ready I am to see Sam fucking Wilson flying around with that shield. (Mr. Falcon who? I only know the great bald eagle, icon and hero to this great nation!)
> 
> (Also that scene where Bucky’s like: “I don’t always think about it. I’m right-handed.” is going to help me a lot. You’d think I’d know which one of Bucky’s arms is metal after googling it more than a few times.)


End file.
